Fifty Shades of Being Engaged
by fiftyshadesfreak
Summary: "Hmm." Christian's smile dips. "She can have a month, that's it. I want you too much to wait any longer." Ever wonder what could have happened during the six weeks between Fifty Shades Darker and Freed...the six week engagement before the wedding? Well, this is it! This covers the three weekends before Christian and Ana's big day. Hope you like! PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everybody! This is my first Fifty Shades fan fic! I had all these ideas for small stories concerning the six weeks between books 2 and 3…so instead of writing a bunch of small ones, I brought them all together to make this. It has to do with the two weekends and the day before the wedding. I didn't do any weekdays because then I would've been writing for forever and ended up with a fan fic the size of a book! It starts a tad slow, but stay with it, it gets more exciting, I promise! **

**Anyways, I tried to do it justice…however, I did PURPOSELY leave out the constant mention of 'subconscience' and 'inner goddess'…I love E.L James, but that gets old very quickly and I didn't bother writing it. So, please enjoy. Tell me everything you think. Don't hold back. I love hearing all different opinions!**

"I'll call you again tomorrow," I tell my mom over the phone.

"Okay, honey. Tell Christian I said 'hi' for me," she says brightly.

"I will."

"Love you, Annie."

"Love you too, Mom. Bye."

I smile as I end the call. I know it's driving my mom nuts being all the way in Georgia. I've been calling her almost everyday for the past week with every new detail about the wedding. I know it means a lot to her so I've been trying to include her as much as possible in every little decision. Her only daughter is getting married so she's been immersing herself into everything she can.

Luckily, Grace and Mia are arranging everything on their own. All I have to do is give my preference or opinion when it's needed. The rest has been taken of. It's been three weeks since our engagement and another three weeks until the wedding. Christian insisted upon the six week deadline. His impatience makes me smile. I'm pretty sure he would be content to hop on his jet and elope to Vegas if I would let him. Hell, I would probably go along with it if it weren't for the fact that it would mean leaving our families out of it.

I wouldn't be able to stand the guilt for not giving my mom and Ray the chance their only child get married. Not to mention Christian's family. Grace was over the moon when she found out that we wanted to have the wedding right there at Bellevue, so I can only imagine the disappointment it would cause her and Carrick if they were left out as well.

I glance down at my watch. It's 7:30. Christian is still in his study finishing up some work, and I just got done cleaning up the kitchen from the fabulous dinner Mrs. Jones cooked. I had to all but throw her out trying to convince her to let me clean up. I wanted something useful to do, and she finally conceded after many protests.

Though having Mrs. Jones around is wonderful, I have to admit that I sort of miss the everyday mundane tasks that I've been used to. I've taken to at least cooking for Christian on the weekends. I wonder slightly if I'll ever really be able to grow accustomed to being waited upon. I doubt it.

I still have time to kill before Christian should be done so I grab my wine from the bar and head for the great glass doors.

Gingerly pulling both doors open, I walk out onto the balcony. I don't bother shutting the doors. The weather has been comfortably warm and there's a small breeze blowing to let fresh air in. I inch my way closer to the edge, careful not to look down but keeping my gaze instead on the pink and orange skyline. The city view is breathtaking, and I can't help thinking about the wonderful view we'll have at the house. Our house.

Christian and Elliot have been going over all the plans while all the women have been seeing to wedding details. I wonder idly how long it will all take to finish and when we can move in. I'm eager for Christian and me to start making a home together. I love Escala, but it's definitely a bachelor pad, not a home.

I rest my elbows on the top of the ledge and take a sip of wine. I can't help lifting my face slightly into the warm wind as it caresses my cheek and blows a few strands of my hair around.

I set the glass on the ledge and absentmindedly start twisting my engagement ring to and fro.

Engaged at twenty-one. To a man I've only know for a matter of weeks no less. Not to mention that man happens to be a billionaire CEO. Huh. Who would've guessed?

A sardonic smile comes across my face. I never imagined my life taking this turn, but at the same time, I never imagined my life could be so full of happiness and love until I met Christian.

My mind drifts back to the first time I met him. It's absolutely mind-blowing to think that that one interview that I didn't even want to do would lead to all this. I can feel the excitement bubbling inside of me. _Mrs. Christian Grey._

The flood of happiness has had me feeling literally buoyant, as if I'm floating on air.

I grin as I examine the beautiful ring that adorns my third finger. I find myself doing that at least twenty times a day as if I still can't believe it's there.

Christian and I are going next week to the jewelers to pick out our wedding rings. Mine will have to be shaped in order to fit around my engagement ring. We're still talking about what to have engraved in them.

The thought makes my smile fade slightly as it brings back the recent memories of the argument over our vows last week.

We were at his parents' house discussing some overall plans to the wedding. Grace was talking about the minister when the first mention of vows came up.

"I'd kind of like to write our own," I suggested shyly, glancing at Christian. "Millions of couples have used the same generic vows over and over. I would just like ours to be different since we're different from everybody else," I explained.

"I think that's a great idea," Christian agreed with a sincere smile at the time.

Later that day, back at Escala, the subject was brought back up, and I made the impossibly huge mistake of making the quip, "I think it's safe to say that 'obedience' will be omitted from mine."

I had meant it as a joke, thinking he would see the ironic humor in it.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

He went ballistic when he figured out I was taking that seriously. I couldn't believe he reacted that way.

"Christian, I don't OBEY you now! Why the hell would you think that I'd promise to do so after we're married?! I'm not making a vow that I know I can't keep!" I had shouted at him. I never would have believed that he would have a legitimate expectation for me to do so. What? Did he somehow think that things would change, and I would magically started submitting to his wishes and doing as he says once we were married? I don't think so.

I let out a sigh. My beloved control-freak.

He finally stormed out and stayed holed up in his study for hours after that, sulking. I didn't dare go in. I went to bed early that night. I was still awake when he came in, but I stayed curled up on my side with my eyes closed and breathing steady with the hopes he would believe I was sleeping and not disturb me. I was too much of a coward to face the ire anymore that day. Arguing with Christian is nothing if not exhausting. He must have believed my little charade because he climbed in beside me wordlessly and fell asleep facing away from me.

It was only a couple of hours later when his nightmare hit.

His gut-wrenching cries stabbed like a knife in my heart as I struggled to wake him up. Once I finally managed to get him awake, he immediately gave in to my wishes followed by the usual make-up sex.

After that everything was fine.

We'll have to bring it back up soon though once we start writing them. Although we agreed that we wanted our vows to be a surprise – for lack of a better word – on the wedding day, we still want them to complement each other. So soon we're going to have to talk about what we want to include specifically. I think I'll let him bring it up, though.

Suddenly there are hands coving my eyes, blocking out my vision and breaking through all my reveries.

"Guess who?" his silky voice murmurs playfully in my ear. His breath tickles my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

I decide to take full advantage of his playful mood.

"Hmm. I'm don't think I quite recognize the voice," I say thoughtfully as I put my hands over his. "But these hands feel awfully familiar…"

I lightly trace the back of his hands with my finger tips.

"So smooth and sexy. Definitely know them from somewhere, but for the life of me I can't think of who they belong to."

Sliding them down, I plant a soft kiss on the inside of each palm. I release his hands as he moves to stand beside me.

I gasp in mock recognition.

"Oh, Mr. Grey! It's you! I'm sorry to say that I didn't recognize my boss' boss' boss' voice! How rude of me!" I put my hand to my throat in fake outrage.

He grins down at me.

"That's quite alright, Miss Steele. I just like to make sure that my staff stays on their toes and these surprise visits tend to do just that."

"Well, I can assure you, Mr. Grey, I'm always on my toes," I say sweetly as I flutter my eyelashes at him.

"Glad to hear it, Miss Steele. May I ask why you're out here?"

"Just relaxing after a long hard day's work at the office. _Your_ office," I say as I turn back toward the darkening sky and take a sip of wine.

"I can think of a better way to relax," he whispers conspiratorially, moving closer and resting his hand against my backside.

I decide to just keep the fun role playing up and jerk back immediately out his reach.

"Mr. Grey!" I gasp indignantly with my mouth hanging open. "Are you making a pass at me?"

"What if I am?" he mutters sexily with a wicked grin on his face.

"Well, I can't believe you exhibit such inappropriate behavior with your employees. Besides-," I sniff. "I'm not that kind of girl." I finish with a dramatic _humph_ as I fling my hair and turn on my heel before scampering back inside.

I hear his chuckle behind me as I walk into the kitchen and pour some wine into my now empty glass.

I smirk at him when he closes the doors and makes his way to me still grinning. _What the hell. Let's keep it going._

"Plus, my fiancée would kill you if he found out," I continue casually as I pour another glass for him.

"Would he now?" he asks, arching his eyebrow as his smile gets even bigger.

"Oh yes. Trust me. He's very jealous, and you would be smart not to cross him," I confirm as I hand him his glass.

"He sounds like a challenging character," Christian replies as he perches on a bar stool.

"Oh, he is. Drives me crazy sometimes," I say flippantly with a roll of my eyes as I slowly inch closer to him.

"But I wouldn't change him for the world," I finish as I come to stand right in front of him in a whisper letting the sarcasm fade from my voice replaced with loving sincerity.

His face softens at my words and his eyes widen fractionally.

"Is that so?" he whispers back.

"Most definitely. All the possessive, stalking, jealous, stubborn control-freakishness is what makes him who he is, and I love who he is more than anything in the world," I continue as I lightly caress his cheek with the back of my hand.

"Sounds like a lucky guy," he says.

"No, I'm the lucky one, Mr. Grey," I reply as I drape my arms around his neck and plant a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He reaches out to pull me closer to him.

"I love you, Ana."

"I love you too, Christian."

He kisses me tenderly for a moment before pulling back to look at me with unfathomable eyes.

"I can't believe you're here," he says almost inaudibly as his expression becomes vulnerable looking.

"What do you mean?"

"After all that you've been through because of me – after all that you know

about me, you're still here," he explains with incomprehension written on his face.

"Christian, when I agreed to move in, what did I tell you?" I ask pointedly.

"That you knew me well enough," he answers, obviously trying to avoid the

real answer.

"What did I say after that?" I ask more specifically like I'm speaking to a

child.

"You said that nothing I could tell you about me would scare you away," he finally answers correctly.

"And do you think that I was lying to you?"

"No."

"Okay then. It shouldn't surprise you that I'm still here. I would have never said that to you if I hadn't meant every word of it."

His arms tighten around me.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers earnestly as a doleful expression crosses his flawless features. _Oh, my sad fifty shades! Why can't you see it my way?_

"Hey," I protest softly. "What have I told you about saying things like that?"

He gives me a sad smile.

"Come here," I say grabbing his hand and pulling him up. I drag him over to the huge sofa in the great room and motion for him to sit. When he does, I sit in his lap so I'm straddling him and wrap my arms around his neck.

"You have to stop believing such bogus nonsense about yourself, Christian," I begin sincerely. He just regards me with wide gray eyes, reminding me that hearing such things is something he's not used to.

_Well he's going to be hearing it for the rest of his life, so he might as well get used to it now._

I look him straight in the eye and fix him with the most sincere look I can muster – as if I can will him to believe me.

"You are an amazing man, Christian Grey, and the fact that you decide to believe these absurd lies about yourself not only hurts me but, quite frankly, it insults me."

He raises his eyebrows in curiosity so I continue to explain.

"By saying such things, you're insinuating that I have a bad taste in men, Mr. Grey, and I know that's not true," I sniff.

A ghost of a smile touches his lips.

"You are the most loving, generous, caring man I have ever met. You've claimed that you don't have a heart, but a person without a heart wouldn't be capable of loving with as much abandon and passion as you do."

He opens his mouth to protest but I hold my hand up to stop him.

"Let me finish."

He closes his mouth again and goes back to regarding me intently.

"Yes, you have a lot more emotional baggage than most people. But, at the same time, you've had to experience more heartbreak and pain than most people. And just because you found a less than orthodox method of dealing with all your issues doesn't make you a bad person or take away from the man I know you are."

I pause as I move my face even closer to his, trying to make him feel my love.

"All of that doesn't define who you are. This does," I say as I bring my palm to rest over his heart. I feel him stiffen fractionally. "What's inside here is what defines you, and it couldn't be more beautiful. For some twisted reason, you believe that you don't deserve to be loved, but the way I see it, there's no one out there who deserves to be loved more than you do. The fact that you believe otherwise is incomprehensible to me, but I can promise you that I will spend the rest of my life telling you this until you finally believe me," I finish earnestly.

He stares silently at me for several long moments with a look of doubt on his face as he absorbs my words.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Ana," he finally says.

"Me either, Christian. Don't you see that?"

I reach up to cradle his face in both my hands.

"This right here – what's between my hands –is the most precious thing to me. You are the only thing that matters to me, Christian. I'm not going anywhere. I love you way too much to ever leave."

"I can't wait to marry you, Anastasia Steele," he says fervently.

My face spits in an impossibly huge grin. I must look like Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland right now.

"Me either," I say with obvious excitement in my voice. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and skim my nose against his.

"Mrs. Christian Grey," I whisper against his lips.

He lets out a small moan as his mouth attacks mine desperately.

We when we break apart, we're both breathless.

"I absolutely adore you, Ana," he whispers, giving one more small kiss.

"And I you, baby."

He smiles the first real smile since the beginning of the conversation. I feel slightly relieved to have all that off my chest. I just hope he takes what I've said seriously. I can't stand knowing how he sees himself when it's the farthest thing from the truth.

Reluctantly, I release him and get to my feet, staggering slightly as the blood returns to my legs. He follows suit.

"I have a few more calls to make before I'm done for the night," he says as I walk back towards the kitchen to where my wine is still waiting.

"Okay," I respond as he grabs his own glass and quickly gives me another kiss.

"See you in a little while, Miss Steele."

He turns on his heel and strides back towards his study. I look down at my watch. 8:20. It's still early and I have no idea how long Christian will be so I decide to chill in the library. _My _library – as Christian insists. Grabbing my briefcase from where I dropped it when I got home from work, I saunter into my little sanctuary, still carrying my wine.

Over a week ago, Christian had me pick out a desk that now sits in the midst of the masses of books. I plop down in the soft leather chair and set my wine on the edge of the desk as I prepare to kill time.

I already finished the manuscript I was reading earlier today, so I decide to just browse around on my Mac to pass the time.

I surf the net for something interesting for about fifteen minutes, before I get an email.

Since he's on the phone, I highly doubt it's Christian, and when I open my inbox I see that that assumption was right. It's from Kate.

**From: Katherine Cavanaugh**

**Subject: Journalist findings**

**Date: July 9, 2011 8:37 p.m.**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

Ana,

I've just been browsing around the various gossip and entertainment sites involving you and Christian. I was hoping these buffoons were keeping you out of the mindless garbage they write, but I just ran across this a minute ago.

Thought you should know, and I figured it was better coming from me than some stranger. Please try not to take it personally. You know the morons who work in this leech industry will write anything regardless of who it is about and what it implies.

The link to the site is below.

My fingers are trembling slightly as I click on the link that Kate has pasted into the email. _Oh no! What are they saying about me?_

The page quickly loads and it takes me a minute to find what Kate was referring to. The site holds an article concerning a local talk show. Apparently, Christian and I were a subject topic on last week's airing.

Then my eyes settle on what Kate must have been referring to. It is a quote of a joke told by the host.

"_Have you all heard the news? Seattle's own Christian Grey is engaged! Yeah, the 28 year old CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings is now getting married to Anastasia STEELE. Am I the only one who notices the irony there? As if billionaire playboys don't have enough to worry about when it comes to gold-diggers, but this one is marrying a woman whose NAME is STEELE! As in Steele everything he has! Is he blind?"_

.God. This is what I was afraid of – what I was afraid of yet expected. That people would automatically assume I was with Christian for his money like some gold digging tramp.

Anger flares through me. The audacity of these people! I can't exactly say I blame them though. Before I met Christian, I would have assumed the same thing about a wealthy bachelor marrying a girl he just met. Hell, I probably would have even laughed at this joke too had it been about someone else. But it's not, and I feel mortified and infuriated at the same time. A brief flash of me finding this man and hurling every bad name I know at him comes into my mind. I know that won't happen, but the fantasy still brings me a little comfort.

_Calm down, Ana. It doesn't matter what these people think. Christian knows differently and that's all the counts. _

I take a deep breath before deciding to respond to Kate's email. Keeping the offending web page open, I quickly write her back.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: "Steele" is what I happen to be made of…not what I do…**

**Date: July 9, 2011 8:46 p.m.**

**To: Katherine Cavanaugh**

Kate,

I just read the "moronic garbage" you so kindly brought to my attention. I'm still fuming, but thank you for letting me know.

You were right – I would much rather hear this from you instead of someone else.

Just proves once again that even after four years you still have my back. J

I love you for that.

I will text you later. Right now, I'm going to show this to my fiancée in hopes he can talk me out of hunting this man down….

Laters,

Ana

I press send and close my email.

I take a long pull from my wine and gingerly pick up my laptop as I stand.

I quickly stride out of the library and towards Christian's study. I hate to interrupt him, but I can't wait.

When I swing the door open, he is sitting in his chair and appears to be typing an email on his Blackberry. Oh, good. He's not on the phone.

Looking up, he sees me standing in the doorway. When his eyes flicker down to the laptop, confusion touches his face.

I take in a deep breath before saying, "You have to see this. Kate sent it to me." I walk straight toward him and put the Mac down on his desk, facing him.

His eyes scan the screen just as mine did when I pulled it up. After several long moments, it seems he's read the intended part.

"Idiots," he mutters to himself so quietly I wonder if I was even supposed to hear.

He looks back up at me with an exasperated expression on his face.

"You aren't actually upset by this trash are you?" he asks gently.

"Of course I am, Christian. How can I not be?"

"Because people are going to say shit like this no matter what. It has nothing to do with you personally, Ana. It's just an opinion based on a stereotype. What these people think shouldn't matter. We are the only thing that's important. As long as we know the truth, it doesn't matter what lies these people want to believe," he says soothingly as he grabs my hands in his.

I heave a sigh. His words echo my thoughts in the library, bit it's still hard to accept the fact that I just have to let things like this roll off my back so to speak.

"I know," I answer him quietly. "It's just hard to overlook the fact that people everywhere are thinking and saying these things and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I know, baby. I wish I could stop it, but I can't. Unfortunately things like this come with package." He gestures vaguely around him.

Yes, marrying an insanely rich CEO of a massive corporation comes with quite the publicity.

"I know," I repeat. "It just got to me is all. Sorry to bother you. I know you're still working."

"It's okay, baby. I want you to tell me how you feel at all times no matter what, and I shouldn't be too much longer," he says the last part with uncertainty as a frown crosses his face.

"What is it?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

He sighs and runs his hand through his beautiful copper hair.

"It seems like I have to go to the office in the morning for at least for a few hours." He looks up apologetically. "I know it's Saturday, but there's a few things that have come up that I can't take of here. I'll be back as soon as I can, and we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you like."

"It's okay. I understand. Take care of whatever you need to, boss." I smirk at him as I say the last word.

"I'll see if Kate will come over and keep me company. We can sit around and brainstorm about where the hell you could be taking me for the honeymoon." I pout indignantly at him.

Christian won't tell me where on earth we're going after the wedding. He claims it's a surprise, but part of me thinks he's doing it just to torture me. He knows I hate surprises.

"Brainstorm all you like, Miss Steele. You still won't know until after we're married," he says nonchalantly.

"You know, I may just have to torture the truth from you, Mr. Grey…" I say threateningly.

He grins knowingly at me.

"Oh? Because the last time worked so well?"

My mind drifts back to the Olympic Hotel when we fled because of Leila. The memory of me taking his drink out of his hand and leading him to the bedroom flood into my brain. I had threatened to "torture the truth from him" then as well. I blush as the memory of him truly making love to me for the first time right after that follows into my thoughts.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to change my tactics then, huh?" I say, arching my eyebrow at him.

"What sort of method do you have in mind?" he asks.

"I don't divulge those sorts of secrets, my love," I counter with a sweet smile.

"Well, I suspect that it doesn't matter what sort of method you use. The outcome won't change," he says confidently as he leans back in his chair and a wicked glint flashes into his eyes.

I let my mouth fall open.

"Are you calling me 'easy', Mr. Grey?" I ask slowly, feigning outrage. Though the display of horror is fake, the comment still stirs something in me.

"Miss Steele, you happen to be one of the most challenging women I have ever encountered, but in the way that you seem to be suggesting…" he trails of, smirking. The bastard.

"Well, don't think I'll forget that comment Mr. Grey." I let the implication hang in the air as I reach for the Mac. I close the lid and tuck it under my arm.

"I'll leave you to finish your work."

"I'll be done in a little bit," he responds normally, letting the wicked amused tone leave his voice.

"Okay, I'm going to go slide into a hot bath and try to forget about the kleptomaniac associations this jackass has put to my name," I say wearily. "Feel free to join me when you're done."

He gray eyes light up at my words.

"I'll hurry," he answers, giving me a smile that makes my heart melt.

I make my way out of his study, quietly closing the door behind me. A devious smile plays on my lips as I start to formulate a game plan. Our little banter has given me a brilliant idea. I'm eager to try it out, but I know it'll have to wait until tomorrow. It'll give me more time to work out the details. Plus, I'll be able to surprise him more if I wait.


	2. Chapter 2

I saunter back towards the library feeling totally mischievous and wanton. I put my Mac back down in its place and grab my Blackberry and empty wine glass.

As I set the glass in the kitchen sink, I get a text from Kate.

*_So are we going to hunt that host down or what? I'm more than willing to be your accomplice. ;) *_

_*You bring the getaway car and I'll bring the tazer…*_

_*Ha! What if something goes wrong? Can we somehow blame it on Jose?*_

I smile down at the phone as I walk toward our master bedroom. Kate always loved to blame Jose for anything and everything even when it didn't make sense. It's sort of been an ongoing joke all through college. I amble my way into the bathroom as I reply.

*_No, I would just say you forced me into it anyways. Guess we should call it off since it seems we can't formulate a good enough contingency plan J *_

_*Whatever you say, babe! J I am sorry that they're writing such bullshit about you, Ana.*_

_*I know, but there's nothing we can do. People are going to say what they want *_

I lean over and start the water filling the bath as I wait for her reply.

_*You wanna come over for a drink tomorrow night? We haven't spent time together in FOREVER! I miss you*_

_*I miss you too. Idk, maybe. I'll have to make sure Christian and I aren't doing anything. I'll let u know tomorrow*_

_*Okay. I'll talk to you then J *_

_*Laters, Kate!*_

_*Laters, Annie!*_

I set the blackberry on the counter and add some bubble bath into the tub. As it finishes filling up and making suds, I slowly start stripping off my work clothes. I think about seeing Kate tomorrow night. I know I can. We have nothing planned and even after my little devious plan unfolds, I'll still have plenty of time. I vaguely toy with the idea of asking Kate to bring Elliot, then we could all go out on a double date, but I know Kate wants to see me – alone.

I've been trying to put it off in a sneaky way. I know Kate has been itching to have that "looooong chat" she referred to a few weeks ago. Especially after the discovery of that email.

That's why I haven't made one on one plans to hang out with my best friend. I'm still torn about whether I should explain everything to her. At Christian's birthday party I said I would "one day". But when exactly is "one day"? I just don't know.

Another question that nags me is if I explain what the email meant, how much detail should I go into about all of this?

Christian told me to tear the NDA up and forget about it. I did just that shortly afterwards, but I still don't want every piece of dirty laundry aired out even to my best friends. I know even as journalist, she would never repeat anything, but I still want to retain some discretion. Anyway, I've already told Christian I would do so.

Christian himself actually brought it up a few days after his birthday. He broached the subject after I got off the phone with her.

He had heard me promise to explain it to her, and wondered when I planned on doing so. I obviously told him I didn't know, but when I did tell her, I would let him know.

I could tell he didn't like it one bit. I assured him that no matter what I told her, she would never betray my trust and repeat it. I explained to him that I trust her implicitly and he should do the same.

He seemed slightly mollified, but I know it still has to be unsettling for someone on the outside to know about his lifestyle – about the dirty secrets he's kept locked away for years. It doesn't help matters that that person happens to be Kate.

I sigh at the thought as I turn off the water and step into the tub. I wonder idly if things will ever get better between Christian and Kate. I intensely hope so because it's not like either of them is going anywhere. They're both going to be in my life, so they might as well get used to each other.

Besides, Kate and Christian could end up brother and sister-in-laws one day too.

Kate's words echo through my mind when I lean back and relax.

"_Who knew we'd find love at the same time?"_

As the hot water does its job of loosening my limbs, I vaguely wonder how serious it is between Elliot and Kate. I've never seen her anywhere near this gushy about anyone. I just hope the feeling is mutual. Besides, brother-in-law or not, if Elliot hurts my best friend, he'll have me to answer to. A small smile lifts my lips at the thought. Kate is the sister I never had.

As an only child, I've always wanted a sibling. I grew up wishing intensely that Ray and my mom would give me a half-brother or sister, but with no such luck. After three other marriages, I don't even have a step-sibling.

However, I was pretty close to Todd, my cousin.

Todd is a couple of years older than me, but we grew up together. In fact, he spent more time with me than his actual brother and sister. Nowadays, we rarely talk since he followed in his father's footsteps and joined the navy.

I grin, remembering his speechless shock when I called to tell him I was getting married.

"To who?!" was his first response.

Pretty much all of my few family members reacted the same way when I got around to calling each of them to let them know they'd be receiving a wedding invitation.

Since there are few of them anyways, all of my family members will be attending the wedding. Christian has already arranged for them all to stay at the Olympic.

My mom and Bob will be coming a few days beforehand so we can spend time together. I thought my mom nearly expired when I told her that Christian would be sending his jet after them whenever they decided to leave. I smile – my pompous fiancée…

At my dad's request, Christian and I are planning to spend the weekend in Montesano at Ray's next week.

Excitement and a little anxiety lance through me. It'll be fun showing Christian where I grew up, but having Christian and Ray together for a whole weekend is a cause for a little concern. I know I need not worry, though. Christian can charm the pants off anyone. I've seen it in action, and I know Ray won't be an exception.

I close my eyes and stretch out, inhaling the sweet aroma of the bubbles that surround me, and clear my head of all thoughts except Christian and me.


	3. Chapter 3

The next thing I know, my eyes open lazily. I must have dozed off. The water has cooled down several degrees and my fingers are pruny. I have no idea how much time has passed, but I wonder where Christian is. He said he would be joining me, and as far as I know, he hasn't been in. Maybe he came in and decided to just let me keep dozing.

I pull the drain and grab a huge fluffy towel off the counter. I didn't let my hair get wet, so it doesn't take long for me to get dry. I wrap the towel securely around myself and grab my Blackberry. Turning on the screen, I check the time. Holy crap. 9:46. I was asleep longer than I thought.

I pad into the bedroom, and quickly pull on some silky panties and one of Christian's t-shirts. After readjusting my hair into a messy bun, I leisurely walk toward the study again. The door is cracked, and I can hear Christian talking heatedly on the phone.

I push the door open gingerly and stand uncertainly in the doorway. Maybe I should just leave him be.

His back is turned away from me. He is standing toward the glass wall that overlooks the city. The phone is to his ear and his other hand is on his hip.

"Well, call him back and set up an appointment…I don't care!...Well, they should have done their jobs…Okay, I'll have him send it over to you…Thank you."

He ends the call and runs his hand through his hair as he turns around, when he catches sight of me.

He frowns and his expression turns apologetic.

"I'm sorry I never joined you. It seems like as soon as I finish one thing, something else comes up." He sighs and runs his hand through his rumpled hair again. "I have one more call to make. After that, I'm all yours, I promise."

He gives me a warm smile, but it doesn't touch his eyes. Wow. He must really be stressed out. One of the side-effects of being the CEO of huge corporation I guess.

I can't stand the tension in his eyes so I stride towards him and take his beautiful face between my hands and pull his face down to mine to give him a soft kiss on his lips.

"Take your time, Mr. Grey. I'll be waiting for you," I whisper sweetly and make way back into the hall with the picture of his dazzling smile in my mind.

I return to our bedroom and settle in to wait for my man.

Grabbing my iPod, I put my earbuds in and crawl to the middle of the bed. I don't bother turning on a light – the moonlight coming through the glass is just as bright as the bedside lamps.

I put my Christian Grey playlist on shuffle and turn the volume up as I get comfy.

John Mayer is singing the last words to "Your Body is a Wonderland" when the door opens and Christian ambles in. I sit up and pull the earbuds out as he shuts the door behind him and comes to perch on the side of the bed.

"Everything okay?" I ask softly and scooch over to sit beside him.

"Yes. Just seems as if I have to do other people's jobs for them," he sighs.

"Well I guess this means I'm the new employee of the month," I tease quietly.

His lips quirk up on one side, but he still doesn't smile and seems too tense. I'm desperate to take the weary look off of his face so I try my hand at making a joke.

"Lift one of your hands up," I say quickly and brightly. His face turns confused, but he complies and lifts his left hand up and offers it to me.

"Now put it back down," I say nonchalantly. He obeys again and rests his hand back on this thigh.

"Put it back up," I say immediately. His brows are now creased together as he does it again a second time.

"Now shake it all about," I sing to the beat of the hokey pokey with a goofy grin on my face. I'm crap at making jokes, but it seems to work perfectly. Christian's face splits into a huge grin and a chuckle escapes him.

"Oh, there it is," I say in exaggerated wonder as I trace my fingers over his lifted lips.

"The most beautiful sight in the world," I whisper, referring to his breathtaking smile. In the white moonlight, I can see his eyes soften at my words. And he gives me that shy smile of his.

"Just take your mind off all that crap at the office," I suggest, putting my arms around loosely around his neck.

"I know. It's just hard not to think about all that needs to be done sometimes," he shrugs.

I cock my head to the side. I know exactly what will fix that. Now, I'm a woman with a mission.

"Why, Mr. Grey, is that a challenge?" I say suggestively as I run my hands down his shoulders.

"What if it is, Miss Steele?" he counters.

"Well, I always love a good challenge, and I'm not _your_ employee of the month for nothing…" I trail off as I lean up give him a quick kiss on the lips.

"But I definitely have a more hands on approach when I work," I murmur into his ear.

He's still just sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor. I crawl slowly until I'm directly behind him, sitting on my knees. I very lightly loop my arms around his shoulders and put my lips to his ear again.

"In fact, I have a very hands on approach when I play too," I whisper seductively. I can hear his sharp intake of breath, making me smile.

I nuzzle his ear and feel my way down the front of his shirt until my fingers find the first button. I very slowly undo each button, feeling blindly from behind him. When all the buttons are undone, I reach for the top of the shirt and slide it over his broad shoulders until the first half of his back is exposed.

His creamy skin reflects the beaming moonlight.

His breathing has picked up speed slightly.

I very lightly trail my fingertips across his upper back from shoulder to shoulder. In the past three weeks, Christian has all but gotten over his touching issue with me. He still stiffens slightly, but his eyes no longer hold any trace of fear. I intend to take advantage of this tonight. Now, it's my turn to love him in a way I haven't been allowed before.

I stroke his soft skin a few more times before I move in to plant a soft butterfly kiss on his bare left shoulder. Taking my sweet time, I travel across his back, leaving a trail of kisses in my wake and softly brushing my fingertips on his shoulders.

When I reach the end of the journey to his right shoulder, I maneuver so I'm sitting in his lap, straddling him. His shirt is still half way on, so I finish pulling it down as he shrugs out of it. After I toss the shirt somewhere on the floor behind me, I rest my arms on his shoulders and wind my fingers into silky hair.

Christian wraps his arms around my waist as I graze his ear lobe with my teeth.

"Ana," he breaths and tightens his arms around me. I kiss along his jaw, coming to a stop at the corner of his mouth. I brush my lips across his but don't kiss him. Instead, I take him by surprise and slide off his lap and onto my knees on the floor. As I kneel between his knees, I grab one of his ankles and pull his shoe off, repeating the process with the other foot.

Looking up at him from beneath my lashes, I give him a slow, foxy smile as I slowly trail my hand up his trouser leg and hook my finger into the band of his sock, pulling it down his ankle and off his foot. Again, I repeat the process with the opposite foot.

Christian's eyes are wide and burning with obvious desire. His hands are clutching each of his knees, and I know it's because he's dying to touch me.

When his feet are bare, I glance down at them and trace my index fingers over the tops of them. I don't know what it is about his feet that I find so sexy.

I lift his right one with both of my hands until the bottom of his foot is level with my face and plant a soft kiss in the middle of his foot. I let my teeth graze his big toe slightly before returning it back on the floor.

"Have I ever told you how hot I think your feet are, Mr. Grey?" I ask as I begin the process again with the other one.

"No," he answers hoarsely.

When both feet are once again on the floor, I lean up and reach for the edge of the covers. I yank back the duvet and sheet.

"Lie down," I whisper, still kneeling on the floor.

As he shifts backward and lies down with his head on the pillow, I rise in one fluid motion to my feet and crawl back onto the bed toward him.

I straddle him again and reach up to pull the hair tie from my bun, letting my chestnut waves fall across my shoulder and down over my chest. His eyes flare in response and I place my hands on either side of his head, leaning down to him.

Tossing my freed hair to one side, I skim my nose down his before trailing a string of small butterfly kisses all over his face – his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin.

I change to a slower pace as I reach the curve of neck. I feel his hands tighten where they rest on my hips as I sensually kiss down the length of his throat. I gently kiss Adam's apple and the dip at the base of his neck. From there, I move left across his collar bone until I reach the curve of his muscular shoulder. I sit up suddenly take his left hand off my hip and raise it to my face.

Keeping my gaze staring straight into his, I slowly kiss the center of his palm, and then flip his hand upward and start the journey north up his arm. I don't take my eyes off his with every kiss.

_Bet he's not thinking about work now._

The thought brings a smirk to my face.

When I've kissed every inch of his muscular arm, I simply begin again with his right arm, taking my time. Christian's expression is scintillating gray. It makes me feel powerful. He once told me I had all the power, and looking right into those eyes that I love, I believe him.

When his right arm has had enough attention, I lean back down and pick back up where I left off at his neck.

I glance back up at him.

"You can tell me to stop anytime," I whisper, angling my face down at his chest. Although he's gotten much better with his reservation concerning touch, I still respect his right to stop me if he needs to. Though he hasn't done such for a while now, I still want to remind him.

He nods slightly as he watches me.

Very slowly, I place kisses across his pectoral muscles, pausing with special care as I kiss each scar, visible even in the muted moonlight.

When I place a kiss right over his beating heart, I trail my finger across where my lips just were and look back up at him.

"Mine," I whisper lightly tapping my finger there to emphasize what I mean.

"All yours, baby," he whispers back fervently.

I smile at his words and continue my affectionate assault on his sweet skin. As I move downward, I slide my over hands to grasp each of his biceps.

I can feel him hot and hard against me and decide to take advantage. While I run my tongue through his curly chest hair, I rock my hips and grind against him.

"Ana," he moans beneath me, causing my blood to turn to fire in my veins as he turns me on. Slowly, I grind against him in time with my kisses. I can feel him almost panting now.

As I move lower onto his rib cage, I lightly pull his skin between my teeth, nipping gently. His midsection jerks upward slightly in response and he inhales sharply. I continue this among my kissing and grinding until I reach his belly button. After I lightly dip my tongue in his navel, I rise up slightly and again meet his gaze as I reach to unbuckle his belt. I don't break eye contact as I move with deliberate slowness, and yank it suddenly through his belt loops, bringing it out from underneath him.

Just like his shirt, I toss it onto the floor somewhere, and turn my attention down to his button and fly. I make quick work of them, but stop. Before going any further, I sit straight up and not feeling in the least but shy, I grab the hem of the t-shirt and pull it off without hesitation. Christian's jaw goes slack and his lips part as his breathing hitches and eyes burn into me.

"I want you," he whispers hoarsely.

"And you'll have me soon enough, baby," I practically purr back. I'm surprised by own boldness, but it's good practice for what I have planned tomorrow…

Tossing the shirt to my left, I crawl backwards so I can yank his pants and boxers down his legs.

When they join the rest of the clothes on the floor, I lean back up and grab his hips with each hand. I kiss down his happy trail before lightly kissing the tip of his erection.

I very slowly take him into my mouth. When he hits the back of my throat, I suck, hard.

"Whoa, baby. Gently," he says in a strained voice. Sheathing my teeth, I twirl my tongue around him as I move back up, then down again. He hisses through his teeth while I continue my erotic licking.

I'm not ready for him to come yet, so with a few more gentle sucks, I remove my mouth, and instead, run my tongue back up to his navel.

Sitting up unto my knees, I hook my fingers into the waistband of my panties and shimmy out of them as best as I can. With those discarded as well, I move back up his body, deliberately letting every inch of my front slide against his. Skin on skin.

When we're face to face again, I rub my nose against his before putting my mouth on his. I push my tongue out to meet his as I let my hair fall like a dark veil on each side of us.

One of his hands moves in between us to my bare breast, squeezing it. I moan into his mouth, and lightly bite into his lower lip, pulling on it as I pull away. He groans in response. I want him, now.

I lean back up, gaze right at him and after a beat, slide down onto him. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes as a low groan escapes between his lips.

Sitting up, I move up then back down, possessing him. As I steady my pace, I reach in front of me and slide my hands up his chest, making him moan again.

His hands are still on my hips, guiding me, and he starts to buck upward, meeting me halfway. My head lolls backward and I close my eyes as I simply let my body take over, and let go of every inhibition.

It doesn't take long before I get that familiar feeling.

"Christian," I moan as I feel myself building.

"Let go. Come for me, baby," he whispers in a rush.

As usual, his words are my undoing, and I moan loudly as my muscles contract and tighten around him, spurring his own release.

He comes as well, calling my name and stilling inside me.

I lean down onto his chest as I recover my coherency. He pulls out of me and wraps his arms tightly around me, hugging me to him. Hmm. I could stay like this forever.

When our breathing has returned to normal, he kisses the top of my head.

"I love you, Ana," he murmurs into my hair.

I raise my head with a little effort.

"I love you too, Christian," I respond.

"Thank you," he says unexpectedly.

"For what?"

"For what you just did. For loving me," he answered sincerely, eyes shining with love.

"The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Grey." I smile sweetly at him.

"By the way, I do like your hands-on approach, Miss Steele," he teases. "You're definitely a very valued employee."

"Well, that's a relief. I was beginning to think you just wanted me around as eye candy," I scoff.

"Well that's a plus too," he mutters, running his hand up my bare spin, raising goose bumps under his fingers.

I move to nestle into his side and rest my head over his heart, letting a contented sigh out.

Christian pulls the covers around us, and hugs me tighter to him as I begin to doze.


	4. Chapter 4

When I wake, I feel the familiar too-warm feeling from Christian's body heat. I'm still in his arms, and his peaceful face is right in front of mine.

I squirm slightly, adjusting myself to get more comfortable. Christian's arms tighten around me in response and he mutters incoherently, then sighs with contentment. It's heartwarming to know he responds to me even in his sleep.

I crane my neck up to get a glance at the alarm clock. He mentioned he had to go into the office today, but I'm not sure if he had specific time table to do so or not. The red numbers announce that its 7:36.

I snuggle back up to Christian and gaze up at his serene face. I wish he could look like this all of the time – no worries, no painful memories that haunt him… My beautiful Fifty Shades…oh how I love him so – even in all his fuckedupness.

It's not long before he stirs and coaxes his sleepy eyelids to open. He grins when he sees me staring at him.

"Good morning, beautiful," he says groggily. Gosh, my man is so adorable when he first wakes up.

"Good morning, gorgeous."

He leans in to give me a swift kiss on the lips. I'm grateful when he doesn't deepen the kiss – morning breath and all…

He glances over his shoulder and heaves a heavy sigh. Appears it's time for him to get up. The thought makes me want to pout. So I do.

"I wish I didn't have to go, too," he says, mysteriously reading my thoughts, or maybe just my expression.

With one more quick kiss, he's out of bed and striding into the bathroom. Moments later, I hear the shower running. I want nothing more than to join him, but I resist, knowing that if I do, he'll never make it to work. I grin at the errant thought.

I snuggle back up on Christian's side of the bed, soaking in the warmth he's just left, and inhaling his delicious scent on the pillow.

In just a few minutes, he walks back out with a white towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair in complete disarray. He looks downright edible. He rummages through his draws, pulling out a pair of Calvin Klein briefs, and strides into the walk in closet. A few more moments in there, and he emerges wearing my favorite pair of gray trousers that hang from his hips in that irresistible way and, of course, a white linen shirt that he's still in the process of buttoning.

I think absentmindedly about the offer to take me shopping that he made. I wonder if we went, if he would let me pick out a least a few shirts for him that were some other color than white. He looks gorgeous in anything, but I'd love to see him with some color for a change. In fact, he'd look sexy as hell in black or maybe baby blue…

My thoughts wander off as I continue to ogle him from the bed.

My mouth dries slightly when he goes to tuck in his shirt. Seeing his hands pushing his shirt tail into the waist band of his pants is extremely attractive to me for some reason.

After he's fully dressed, he ambles gracefully back into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back out, he's arranged his hair into a tamer look, and he perches on the side of the bed as he quickly dons a pair of black socks.

He gathers the shoes I took off of him last night and slips his feet into them.

As he does so, he asks me about Kate coming over. I did mention that as a joke last night.

"No, I'll just find a way to burn time here," I say nonchalantly, feeling sneaky. I haven't forgotten about my evil plan. "But she asked me to come over tonight for a visit." I feel nervous broaching the subject. I know how he feels about Kate.

"What did you tell her?"

"That we'd see. I'm still not sure if I'm ready to face the one-on-one rapid fire interrogation that I know I have coming."

"Well, do you want to go?" Christian asks curiously.

"Sort of. I miss her. I went from living with her 24/7 to barely seeing her at all," I say a little hesitantly.

"Then you should go," he says softly. Whoa. Wasn't expecting that. "Taylor or Sawyer will take you of course," he adds quickly, with a stern look, all softness gone. It makes me want to laugh. Mr. Mercurial…

"Of course," I concede immediately. I know my objections will do no good. Besides, "I'll probably need someone to drive me home. Kate loves breaking out the red wine," I add.

Suddenly his expression is wary, and I know what's coming before he even opens his mouth.

"If she starts asking, are you going to tell her?" he asks, knowing I don't need clarification to know what he's referring to.

I sigh. This is the dilemma.

"I don't know yet. Are you okay with me trying to explain that email? I already told her I would."

"Stop biting your lip," he commands and I remove my teeth from my bottom lip. "I trust your judgment, Ana. You're not bound by an NDA here, and if you think Kate can be trusted to keep her mouth shut, then I guess I'll just have to believe that," he responds slowly with visible reluctance.

"Okay. I'll think about it, and if I do, I'll tell you when I get back."

"Okay," he agrees. Whoa. That was a lot easier than I thought.

He grabs his Blackberry, wallet, and keys from and the dresser. Wow. I feel sorry for men – having to carry all that crap in their pockets.

And way too soon, he's kissing me goodbye.

"I'll be home as soon as I can," he breathes against my lips.

"It's okay. Take your time. Do whatever needs to be done. I'll be waiting for you when you get back," I say the last part with silky promise in my tone.

He smiles and rises from the bed.

"Love you, baby" he says with his hand in the doorknob. I playfully blow him a huge, loud kiss, making a MWAH! noise with my lips.

He reaches up and dramatically makes a catching motion in the air, and closes his fist around nothing. He makes a show of putting it in his pocket. The sight makes me giggle.

He grins and pulls the door open.

"Laters," he says over his shoulder as he steps into the hall.

"Laters, baby," I call after him.

_Actually it'll be sooners rather laters, baby._

I grin feeling like a villain twirling my mustache around.

I plop back down onto my pillows and sigh. Today's going to be an interesting day. I pray fervently that what I have planning goes without a hitch. In fact, the more I think about it, the more details I seem to be adding to my game plan.

Then there's talking to Kate…if I end up telling her everything, what on earth am I going to say? How do I go about explaining that my soon-to-be husband wanted to simply make me one of his many kinky sex slaves when we first met? I groan inwardly. It won't be an easy job.

I glance back up at the alarm. It's 8:24 already. Better get moving then.

I grab the discarded shirt that's still lying on the floor from our promiscuous night and pull it over my head. I hunt down my Blackberry as I pad into the bathroom.

I start with sending Kate a text about tonight.

*_We're on for tonight. What time do u want me over?*_

Her response is almost instant.

_ *Cool! Any time after 5 or so is perfect*_

_ *Kay. Laters*_

_ *Laters, babe*_

Before I get into the shower, I decide to send Christian an email – step one of plan in motion.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: Go kick some…**

**Date: July 10, 2011 8:35 a.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

…serious ass at work.

I'll miss you every second until you return.

Especially now as I'm about to step into a nice hot shower…

Wish you were here to scrub my back.

As always, I love you.

Laters,

Ana xox

I press send and hop into the shower, taking my time and shaving my legs.

When I step out, I dry off and wrap the towel around myself. Grabbing my blackberry, I see Christian has already responded to my email.

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: As ever…**

**Date: July 10, 2011 8:43 a.m**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

…you brighten my day as only you can.

I already miss you.

Can't wait till I'm home and in your arms again.

Yes, I wish I were there to scrub your back as well, among other things…

I love you, too.

Yours Now and Always,

Christian xxx

Ps-I always kick ass. Not just at work.

Christian Grey

Grinning like love struck fool CEO, Grey Enterprises Holding, Inc.

I find myself also grinning like the love struck fool that I know I am as I read his email. I can't believe he ever told me he wasn't a 'hearts and flowers' kind of guy. Romance seems to come so naturally to him. Then again, we've both learned a lot in our time together.

I know he's working, but I decide to respond anyways.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: Who ever said…**

**Date: July 10, 2011 8:58 a.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

…that you weren't a hearts and flowers man?

Your words make me melt, Mr. Grey.

Incidentally, your arms happen to be my favorite place on earth.

Nothing else can make me feel quite so safe and warm.

I'm glad to inform you that, though you were sorely missed, I managed to finish my shower no worse for wear.

Now, stop emailing and get to work. The sooner you're finished, the sooner I can wrap you up in these arms of mine.

Always,

Your Ana xo

Ps-I have a sneaking suspicion those three x's don't stand for kisses…but something else that also suits you…

I hit send and rummage through the dresser for something comfy. I'll change into something else later…but right now I just want to be comfortable while I kill some time and set things into motion. I settle for a pair of soft jeans and an old t-shirt.

I finally officially moved in a week and a half ago, bringing whatever I wanted to keep from Kate's condo over here.

Thanks to my brand new wardrobe provided by Christian, I ended up donating a lot of my clothes, just keeping the ones I wanted for comfort.

I fire up the hairdryer and take my time as I finger dry my hair. With that done, I snatch up the rest of the evidence of our tryst last night from the floor and straighten up.

As I finish, I saunter into the kitchen to whip up myself something to eat. I settle for pancakes. It's been a while since I made them so I'm a little rusty, but they end up being delicious anyway.

After I clean up after myself, I rummage through my library for something to occupy me.

I don't feel mellow enough to read. Besides, if I start reading, I'll probably get absorbed and let time get away from me as usual. Today is not the day to let that happen.

So instead, I lounge in the computer chair and fire up my Mac to surf the net again. Hopefully I won't run into anymore garbage about Christian and me.

I'm browsing through Barnes and Noble's site, looking at the new releases,

when my inbox pings. It's from Christian.

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Sharp as a Whip. (no pun intended)**

**Date: July 10, 2011 9:49 a.m.**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

Love that you picked up on that double meaning. Though I did not intend it, you're still very right…

Believe me, these arms are itching to surround you.

I did notice that you're getting awfully bossy…

I shall email whoever and whenever I like, thank you very much.

I've already taken care of the major stuff, now I mostly just have to sit here and deal with calls and paperwork.

I shall daydream of you to get through the monotony.

Laters, my baby.

Christian xxxxxxxxxx (take that on for size)

Christian Grey

Antsy CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I smile once again, reading his email. I decide to respond later. Right now, it's time to start step two.

I power the Mac down and head towards Taylor's office. He stands when I knock and peer in.

"Taylor can you do me a favor?"

"Yes, of course, ma'am." I grimace at the word ma'am. I thought we were getting past that. At least Mrs. Jones calls me Ana.

"I need to run a quick errand, and I'm sure Christian would prefer if you took me," I begin. I hate having to do this. I'm a grown woman and should be able to come and go without having to be accompanied like a five year old, but I know it's better this way.

"Okay ma'am," he says quickly, grabbing the SUV keys.

"Do me a favor and keep this between us. I'm doing something as a surprise for Christian, and I don't want to ruin it," I add crossing my fingers.

He frowns slightly but nods.

We make our way down in the elevator in silence.

Once we're in the SUV, Taylor cranks the ignition and asks, "Where to, ma'am?"

I tell him, and as he starts off I add, "I'm probably going to need your help carrying the bags."


	5. Chapter 5

A half-hour later, Taylor has a handful of bags from Yankee Candle. There's so many that Sawyer lends a hand carrying some as well. When we enter the apartment, I tell them to just set them in the great room and thank them.

I've bought probably around one hundred candles of all different sizes. I probably won't use that many, but I wanted to have options. I smile. They're going to come into good use shortly…but that's a few steps from now. I'm getting ahead of myself.

With my Blackberry, I respond to Christian's earlier email to find out what he's doing.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: Idle hands…**

**Date: July 10, 2011 10:32 a.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

…Really are the devil's handiwork…and mine are entirely too idle…

Your apartment is lonely without you here to fill the silence.

I hope all is going well with your monotony.

A great man once said, "Fuck the paperwork." I think you should listen to his advise for today…

Bossy, you say? Well, what do you intend to do to put me back in my place?

Look forward to your response – maybe it will take away from my growing boredom.

Love,

Ana (Soon to be Grey) x

I hit send and meander into the bathroom. I hope the idle hands comment doesn't tip him off too much. Rummaging through the cabinets, I find my wide-barreled curling iron. I plug it up and leave it to warm up while I work on my face a little.

I've never been a huge fan of makeup. If nothing else, it's a pain to take off.

I keep it on the modest side, but it's still more than I usually wear. I brush a light coat of Bare Minerals across my face and line my eyes with black eyeliner.

I add some mascara and debate about what to do to my lips. I end up deciding to hold off on lipstick until I'm finished. I hear my Blackberry vibrate and open the new email from Christian.

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Fallen Angel?**

**Date: July 10, 2011 10:46 a.m.**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

I have to say that I highly doubt the devil has any association with you, my Angel.

But now I'm curious…what are you up to in OUR apartment?

I could think of several ways to occupy those hands…All of which involve those three x's we were discussing earlier…

The monotony has just gotten more monotonous. I think I'll be sitting here for a while.

Great man, huh? Well, he seems to know what he's talking about. I'll have to store that advice away for later reference.

Now I'm having all sorts of fun thinking about the ways I could 'put you in your place'…again, they all involve those x's…

I shall wait on pins and needles for your response.

Love,

Christian 3

Ps- I love how you signed your name. Anastasia Grey has a wonderful ring to it. One I can't wait to let roll off my tongue.

Christian Grey

Flattered CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: NC-17**

**Date: July 10, 2011 10:49 a.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

Whoa. Sounds like an awful lot of x's to me…As long as I'm the only one associated with such thought, then dream away, my dear Sir.

Since when do I divulge such information, Mr. Grey? Anyway, you're the one who left me to my own devices, so now you have to live with the consequences…

Yes, a very great and wonderful man. My man.

As I said, take your time. I'll still be here when you get home – I've said it before, and I shall say it again: I'm not going anywhere…ever. J

Hope I've put a smile on that beautiful face of yours.

Love you always,

Ana "Steele" (the apparent kleptomaniac) ;)

By now, the curling iron is hot and I make quick use of it to put defined, neat waves in my already tousled hair. It doesn't take very long and I switch off the iron and set it to the side to let it cool.

I meander into the bedroom, to begin the real work.

I pillage through the drawers containing all the under-things bought for me by Caroline Acton. It doesn't take me long to pick out what I want.

Just as I start to strip off my clothes, I get another email from Christian.

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Penalties **

**Date: July 10, 2011 10:56 a.m.**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

Ana,

I will be more than happy to live whatever consequences as long as I deserve them. I'm anxious to find out…

Your man? Always. :)

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't want you to go anywhere…ever. J

As it so happens, you are the only person who never fails to make me smile.

Kleptomaniac happens to be the perfect match for a megalomaniac. I guess we really are meant for each other. Remind me to make you an appointment with Flynn as well, and we shall start facing our inner maniacs together.

Eternally yours,

C x

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

_Oh, baby. You'll find out soon enough what I'm doing..._

I set the Blackberry down, delaying my reply a bit. I have work to do, and I don't need to be distracted with emailing at the moment.

I finish taking my clothes off and start slipping into the slinky attire I have picked out.

I slide on a tight black corset with matching lace brief panties and pull on the silk stockings and garter belts, hooking each one in place. When I'm dressed, I saunter into the closet and take inventory of the selection of shoes.

I decide upon a pair of black skyscraper high Louboutins and slip them on. I'm instantly several inches taller. _Oh yeah._

Minding my step, I totter back into the bathroom so I can view my handiwork.

_Wow. _My mouth pops opens. I barely recognize myself. The sexy, blue-eyed creature looks like she belongs in a spread in Maxim magazine. _I look…hot! Oh this is gunna be fun…_

I turn in the mirror to get a good look from behind as well. The cheeky underwear perfectly emphasizes my backside.

I walk over to the vanity and browse through the lipstick. Hell, it's no time to half-ass this – I go for bright red.

When my lips are a bloody color, I put everything back into its place and wander back to where I left my phone to respond to his email.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: Look at the time…make a wish.**

**Date: July 10, 2011 11:11a.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

Mr. Grey,

I've never understood why exactly people say to make a wish at 11:11, but you can go ahead and try if for nothing else than kicks and giggles. As for me, all of my wishes came true the day I met you…

Always my man, huh? Not to mention my fiancée, my lover, my pervert, my sexual mentor, my other half, my control-freak, my megalomaniac, my fifty shades, my heart and soul, my protector, my safe haven, my happily ever after…My Everything…

I'm glad to hear that I make you smile. It happens to be a daily mission of mine. Glad to know that I'm succeeding.

Yes, we were made for each other. Though I have to turn down the Flynn offer…my intuition tells me he would love nothing more than delve after our first visit…thanks to me and my big mouth.

Waiting until you respond,

Ana "Steele" (your heart because you've definitely stolen mine)

I press send and leisurely walk back into the closet. I want to get his reply before I initiate step 4 of my little scheme. I practically feel like tossing my head back and belting out an evil laugh.

In the closet I hunt down one last piece of clothing. A black, knee-length trench coat – the ones you always see strippers in movies using to hide whatever they're wearing (or not wearing) underneath. Well, it's about to do just that for me.

I'm thankful for the overcast weather we're having today. Hopefully, it won't look too out of place.

I pull the expensive outerwear on and add one final touch to my look – the drop earrings that Christian gave me before the charity event several weeks ago, his second chance earrings.

As I pull the last one through my earlobe, I get Christian's response.

_Almost time to move._

**From: Christian Grey **

**Subject: My, oh my, oh my….**

**Date: July 10, 2011 11:17 a.m.**

**To: Anastasia Grey **

…you sound like a greedy little thing. Nonetheless it's all true. I am yours, through and through, every part of me will always belong to you. And who said "gimme gimme" never gets? ;)

I'm not sure what the significance is about 11:11 either. I have been wishing to see you for hours, so maybe now it will come true. Though, I have a confession to make – I neither kicked nor giggled while making that wish.

But now, I have the sound of your giggling in my head – this lifts my spirits considerably. I will definitely try to elicit that sound from you when I return.

As ever, Miss Steele, you highly intrigue me…Why would Flynn want to delve with you? It doesn't necessarily surprise me as I find you fascinating, but now I'm wondering what it is that you said to make him feel that way. Let any deep, dark secrets slip?

I'll be waiting to hear,

Christian x

Ps- You stole my heart the moment I saw you.

Christian Grey

Intrigued and curious CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: Your Wish=My Command**

**Date: July 10, 2011 11:23a.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

Mr. Grey,

I hope you know that it is one of my utmost desires to fulfill every one of your wishes…Although, I think the kicking and giggling might have been necessary in order for it to come true. Sorry.

I love it when you make me giggle. You're usually in my favorite playful mood when you draw such sounds from me…

But now you have me thinking about being in certain moods…and coaxing out certain sounds…this does things to me.

By the way, I don't use "gimme gimme." By popular opinion, I just Steele whatever I want.

Um, doctor/patient confidentiality remember? But if you must know, Mr. Intrigued and curious, he came to the conclusion that I have self-esteem issues…this is nothing new for you to hear. I made a remark that apparently "said negative things about myself" and the conversation quickly turned from you to me…Thankfully, that's around the time you walked in – saving my ass.

Now you know. Hope that sates your curiosity.

Ana xoxo

I press send. If I get another one, I'll just have to reply in the car. It's time to get this rolling…

I take one last glance in my overall appearance and smile with satisfaction. I look perfect. No one would ever guess what's underneath.

I stride out of the bedroom, feeling beyond brave.

I once again enter Taylor's office. This time, Sawyer's with him.

When they both see me, their eyes widen slightly at my not-so-normal-get up. Taylor quickly regains his impassive expression, but Sawyer flushes slightly.

"Ma'am?" he asks gruffly.

"Will one of you please escort me to Grey House?" I ask without missing a beat.

"Is Mr. Grey expecting you?" Taylor asks with a frown. Obviously, if that were the case, Christian would have told him as much.

"No, and I want to keep it that way. I know he's in his office and not too busy so I want to take advantage of that and surprise my fiancée," I say conspiratorially as I give Taylor my most innocent smile.

"Okay," he nods and smiles. "I'll take you, Miss Steele. Sawyer, you take over here," he says nodding towards Sawyer.

"Sure thing, T. Good day, Miss Steele," he says as Taylor walks toward the door.

"Bye, Sawyer," I respond, turning on my heel and walking with Taylor to elevator. Once the doors close, I feel my phone vibrate as I receive more word from Christian.

**From: Christian Grey**

**Subject: Wishes**

**Date: July 10, 2011 11:27 a.m.**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

I guess I should've stayed outside then, and let you talk to the good doctor some more about this. Maybe he could talk some sense into you.

You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Anastasia. Why you cannot see that is totally beyond me. My curiosity is almost sated, but I can't help but wonder what exactly you remarked that would have started that…

Yes, moods and noises…that's a heady combination…one I'd like to try when I get home. .. I'm glad you like my playful side. Cause playing with you happens to be my favorite activity.

Yours always,

Christian

Christian Grey

Romping-Around-Playful CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

We've just reached the SUV when I start to reply.

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**Subject: Your Wish…Not So Much My Command…**

**Date: July 10, 2011 11:23a.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

I'm glad you see me that way. I've always been on the self-conscience side, but it's nothing to worry about. Besides, you've helped me tremendously with this. I've had people tell me how pretty, beautiful, or attractive they thought I was, and I've never given much credit to it before…until I met you. You not only tell me I'm beautiful; you make me feel beautiful, too. And that is something no one else has ever accomplished before. You make me feel that way because that's what you are. Remember when you took me out on the _Grace_? You said I was getting braver…bolder…well, that's why. Maybe I'm over exaggerating, but at least it's safe to say that I no longer feel cheap. I feel yours.

I must mention with much satisfaction that the terms "bold" and "brave" are what I would consider to be very close to antonyms of "submissive".

Bold (bōld) adj. – 1. Fearless and daring; courageous 2. Requiring or exhibiting courage and bravery 3. Unduly forward and brazen; impudent

Brave (brāv) adj. – 1. Possessing or displaying courage; valiant 2. Making a fine display; impressive or showy

I find this conversation very ironic concerning my "idle hands" and your "consequences" which have been previously mentioned….you will find out soon enough why…

Concerning what's left of your curiosity…that's not something I want to share over email.

Yours Always,

Bold, Brave, &Devious 3

I press send and glance out the window. In the time it has taken to type that – especially having to copy and paste the definitions from The American Heritage College Dictionary Online – we are much closer to Grey House than I expected.

For the first time, I feel a little bit nervous. Can I do this?

I shake off those thoughts quickly.

_Get it together, Steele! You can do this. You've come too far to back out now._

I instinctively pull the coat tighter around myself as I take a deep breath, letting my resolve return stronger than ever.

With the last few miles closing in, I'm pulled out of my thoughts as Taylor snaps his phone to his ear.

"Sir," he answers tersely. I stop breathing. There's only one person who would have that title.

_Oh no! I'm screwed!_

"No, sir. No one's come or gone from Escala…No, she's had her usual routine as far as I know…Nothing out of the ordinary…Yes, sir," he answers all of Christian's questions without missing a beat before hanging up. I breathe a sigh of relief, and meet Taylor's gaze in the rear view.

"Thank you, Taylor," I say fervently.

"My pleasure, Miss Steele," he answers sincerely, giving me a rare smile before he goes back to staring impassively at the road.

We're still a good distance away, but I can see the massive building practically hitting the clouds. I don't remember it being this big the last time I was here.

After Taylor parks the SUV, he jumps out to open my door. I take one last deep breath.

_Game on, Steele!_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This was so much fun to write! My ultimate fantasy is about to unfold! lol As you might notice, I decided to give Ana a little more confidence than what she may have had according to E.L. James...it makes it more sexy..anyway Enjoy! and PLEASE REVIEW!**

It doesn't surprise me when Taylor follows closely behind me as I enter the gargantuan sandstone lobby for the second time. Wow. It's even more impressive now.

The same blond receptionist sits at the front desk. She looks up expectantly, and Taylor surprises me by flashing a security pass that indicates he's an employee. She frowns slightly, but I keep walking, thanking my lucky stars for Taylor once again. I press the call button for the elevator and shift from foot to foot as we wait.

When the doors open with a ping, we step in and I press the button for the twentieth floor.

I feel giddy with accomplishment. I can't believe I'm actually about to pull this off. Why didn't I try this sooner? It's going to be fun…

I'm slightly distracted when the thought that Christian works here, owns everything here, and rides this very elevator almost everyday crosses my mind. I'm hit with an unexpected wave of awe as I mull that over.

It doesn't take long before the elevator doors slide open, and I'm assaulted with an overwhelming sense of deja-vu. I step in the huge white sandstone lobby. The impressive waiting room is empty. Looks like Mr. Grey doesn't have any appointments – _well at least not a scheduled appointment…_

Disbelief courses through me. I can not believe I was here for the interview just a couple of months ago. Now, I'm engaged to this man and here for a much different reason…

I smirk to myself. I wish someone had told me things would turn out this way. Then again, I probably would have just thought they were smoking something highly illegal…

Surprise floods through me when I see the two blond women. It's Saturday. I expected them to be off, but I assume a casual gait and amble toward the receptionist desk anyways. I recognize Andrea immediately, and the other blond girl whose name I think is Olivia is flitting around the waiting room straightening and arranging things.

"Hi, Andrea," I greet her with a nod as I stand in front of the desk.

"I doubt you remember me. I'm Ana, Christian's fiancée," I clarify.

Her eyes widen immediately, and she looks slightly awed.

"Anastasia Steele?" she asks, sounding stunned.

I smile slightly and see her eyes flicker to Taylor who is still hovering behind me. By her expression, I think she may recognize him.

"Yes, that's me," I confirm. By now, Olivia has come closer, and she and Andrea exchange a loaded look. _Yes, ladies. Be amazed._

"Um, wow. Wh-what can I help you with Miss Steele?" he stutters slightly, making me smile even wider. Who knew I could intimidate someone just with my name?

"Is Mr. Grey with anyone in his office?"

"No, ma'am."

"Does he have anymore appointments?" I ask just to make sure, though I already know the answer.

"No. Do you want me to announce you?" she asks with her hand already on the office phone.

"No. No thank you," I say quickly, making her put the phone down. I feel the need to explain. "I came to surprise Christian. I'll just let myself in."

I say it as authoritatively as I can manage. Apparently I pull it off, because she doesn't question me, but bristles with efficiency as she asks, "May I take your coat?"

I smirk.

"No, thank you. I won't be long," I answer her.

I nod at Taylor and he says, "I'll be right here, ma'am."

"Thank you, Taylor."

I take two steps away before wheeling around to add, "Andrea, will you make sure that we're not disturbed?" I again go for an authoritative tone. I may not be her boss, but I'm her boss' fiancée – which is close enough to have my wishes taken into consideration as well.

_I'm his employee, too. _

The thought makes me frown. To hell with that – it's not the time for thoughts like that. Right now, I'm just his sexy fiancée who wants to have some fun with her man…

"Of course, Miss Steele," she agrees wholeheartedly. I smile at her. I like this blond.

"Thanks."

I once again turn on my heel and stride without hesitation to his door. I pause for a beat when my hand touches the doorknob. My heart is beating rapidly, but I'm still hanging onto my resolve with both hands.

I stop just long enough to take a deep breath and blow it out before gently twisting the knob.

_Showtime, baby!_

I crack the door just enough to slide through. As soon as I pass the doorjamb, I realize that I couldn't have timed it more perfectly. He is standing, back to me, on the phone, facing the glass wall that overlooks the city.

After a moment, it dawns on me that he doesn't know I'm in here, as he's absorbed in his call. Taking advantage of this, I shut the door silently behind me, and not taking my eyes off of him, I feel for the lock, twisting it when my fingers make contact. Just in case Andrea doesn't keep us from being disturbed…

As I wait for him, I lean casually with my back against the door. I quickly make sure the belt is still tied securely on my jacket before I cross my arms and let my right leg cross in front of my left.

As I stand here, I'm struck with an overwhelming sense of deja-vu. I'm practically getting flashbacks from the first time I was in here. Though nothing about the predominantly white room has changed that I can tell, I am struck at how different things are. How different the two people standing in this room are. So much has changed since then.

I smile thinking about how there was no way in hell I would have ever thought about doing something like this…

Yes, my last email to Christian was definitely spot on. He's giving me an assurance and confidence that didn't exist before. I'm no longer intimidated by this beautiful man – at least not in our everyday life. When he's angry is another story…

In the time since I've been here, I've learned that this seemingly scary, brooding man is nothing more than a frightened boy on the inside. I boy who has seen and experienced far more pain than I care to think about – pain which fuels his fear – fear to love and be loved; fear to let go of a little control; fear to just be himself.

_Oh my fifty shades! How I love you!_

I snap back to the here and now when Christian raises his voice slightly – the conversation with whoever is on the other end heating slightly.

"No…that wasn't the agreement…if we do that, at least five-thousand GEH employees will loose their jobs, and I will not let that happen…No…then we'll just have to find a way around it…I don't care…then do your damn job and look into it…we have a conference call scheduled for next week…okay…email it to me when it's finished." He abruptly ends the call. No goodbye, as usual…

I tense, but he doesn't turn around. He heaves a sigh and runs an exasperated hand through his hair. Just as I'm thinking about clearing my throat or saying something snarky like "Looks like someone has his knickers in a twist…", he looks back down at his phone and seems to be about to call someone else, so I hold off, and continue to hold my breath and stay perfectly still.

I'm ogling as my favorite pair of pants that do that hanging thing from his hips. He hits the dial button and places the phone up to his ear once more. I'm getting ready to settle in for another one-sided business call when the sound of "Your Love is King" startles me – my ringtone for Christian.

_Holy shit! Could this get anymore perfect?_

I somehow manage to keep my casual stance against the door, and I'm smirking smugly, as he whirls around to face me finally.

His eyes pop wide and his mouth drops open. I don't make a move; just continue to regard him with a slightly arrogant feeling. _Don't get too cocky._

I repeat this mantra again and again in my head as I wait for him to recover.

His phone is still pressed to his ear and mine is still ringing. He blinks in incomprehension, as if he thinks he's seeing things and at any moment, I will disappear in a puff of smoke.

Finally, it gets ridiculous, and there's only one thing I know to do. Without breaking eye contact, I fish my Blackberry out of my coat pocket and raise it to my ear, hitting the answer button.

"Hello," I say with ill-concealed amusement in my voice.

This seems to snap him out of it. He finally takes the phone from his ear and I follow suit, ending the call.

Shock is still written on his face, but at least he's managed to close his mouth.

His eyes trail up and down my black-clad body. I smirk again. _Oh yeah. Wait till you see what's underneath, baby…_

"How long have you been standing there?" Phew! He speaks! He's still shocked, but now it's mixed with suspicion and his eyes heat.

"Long enough," I answer cryptically. He narrows his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

Finally, I make my first move. Standing straight from where I was leaning against the door, I take two slow, lazy steps forward. The razor thin heels click quietly against the white floor.

"What? I need a reason to pay a visit to my fiancée at work?" I ask him, sounding innocent even to my own ears. But no matter how innocent I look or sound, Christian knows me better than that. He knows why I'm here…or at least he _thinks _he knows, and I intend to play off of that in every way I can.

He finally seems to have composed himself slightly.

"How did you get here?" he demands. "I just ta-," he cuts himself off mid-sentence.

"Just talked to Taylor?" I finish it for him, giving him a devious smirk.

He blanches at my expression as comprehension sinks in – Taylor lied to him.

"Taylor like me too, ya know. He covered for me while he was driving me here." As I speak, I rest my hands on my hips and stalk a few more slow steps forward.

He seems to relax when he learns I didn't go out unprotected, his face turning slightly amused.

"Well, is there a specific reason for your visit, Miss Steele?" he asks, politely but the undercurrent of humor and sensuality is there in his voice.

"Well, you did make a wish to see me, did you not?"

"Yes, I did," he murmurs as he runs his index finger over his bottom lip and takes a noticeable step towards me. My mouth goes dry for a second.

_Aw hell no! I'm in control of this little role play…_

"And I told you that it was my mission to make your wishes come true – So I figured I would grace you with my presence."

He cocks his head to the side, clearly starting to enjoy this. I smile. Now's the time to start playing it up!

I glance around myself.

"Hard to believe that this is where it all started," I say softly, sincerely.

"Yes it is…" he responds. I saunter over to the couch where I sat during our interview to trail my fingertips lightly over the soft leather.

I glance around, feigning distraction, but I can feel his intense gaze on me. I wonder idly if he's ever had one of his subs in here. I doubt it for some reason, but I dismiss the thought immediately. In any case, he's not getting it now, despite what I know is running through his head.

"I can't believe it was only two months ago. So much has happened…" I say softly, meeting his eyes again.

"I couldn't agree with you more."

I turn around and face the wall with the door I came through. All those paintings are still adorning the wall. "Raising the ordinary to extraordinary" I believe is what I said when I saw them for the first time. Now, I have the chance to examine them closer.

I leisurely make my way towards them, my walk resembling a slow-motion cat-walk as I deliberately but subtly sway my hips with each step.

Up close, they're even more beautiful. I simply admire each painting as I try to ignore the gray gaze boring into me.

When I turn, I notice a familiar photograph hanging on the far right wall. I flush slightly, losing my calm, impassive demeanor for a split second.

It's one of the seven photographs from Jose's show. This one features me with a small smile playing on my lips as I appear to be unaware of the camera – which was exactly the case. Jose took a lot of these slyly or so playfully that I didn't expect anything of it.

"I see you found a home for one of my photographs," I say as I gesture towards it, finally looking back at him.

When I shift my gaze to him, I find that he's moved from standing in front of the glass wall to sitting back in his wide leather chair behind his desk.

"Yes, that one happens to be one of my favorites," he answers absentmindedly while he swivels left and right slightly in his chair, looking totally at ease. _Time to change that._

I turn again and make my way back to the arrangement of white leather furniture.

"So, how much longer before you're done?" I say conversationally as I circle around the coffee table, still gazing absentmindedly around myself.

"Maybe a couple of more hours," he says in a silky, seductive sounding voice. _Not going to work this time, Grey…_

I nod my acknowledgement and put my hands on my hips.

"I have a confession to make," I begin slowly.

"Oh?" he lifts his eyebrows in response as I gracefully turn on my precariously high heels.

With my back turned to him once more, I very surreptitiously untie my coat with one small pull. It goes slack and comes apart slightly, revealing a peak of what's underneath. Christian is still blissfully unaware as my back is still turned to him.

I peak at him over my shoulder with a wily smile. "I lied. I did come here for a reason..."

I put my hands back on my hips, on the inside of the coat this time, causing it to open wide just as I whirl back around and add, "A very _specific_ reason."

I gaze at him as if nothing's unusual. No, I'm not dressed like a stripper, no, not at all.

Christian, on the other hand, is not so composed. I have the satisfaction of watching is eyes pop wide and his lips part.

Gray eyes move up and down hungrily as he takes in the sight that stands before him. He says nothing, just gawks at me. I smirk and move to my left towards the sofa. Ignoring him completely, I steel myself – no pun intended – and casually let the six-hundred dollar coat slip from my shoulders. I bring it around and drape it on the back of the couch. Very tactfully, knowing very well I'm doing, I maneuver around the sofa, turning so he gets a good eyeful of the back too.

_Let the games begin…_

I sit on the wide arm of the leather sofa, resting my hands flat behind me and leaning back on them as I lazily cross my right leg over my left. I move my heel-clad right foot in lazy circles.

I look back at him, giving him a dead-pan stare, as if merely sunbathing rather than strutting around in my underwear.

His stare has turned to gray fire. Under normal circumstances, I would be turned to putty by this look.

Suddenly, something occurs to him, and he glances nervously at the door.

"Don't worry," I purr. "I locked it…wouldn't want anyone to interrupt us…"

I tilt my head back and stare dreamily at the ceiling, letting out a sigh. I deliberately chew on my bottom lip momentarily.

In my peripheral vision, I see him make a move to get up.

"You might as well stay where you are, Mr. Grey," I say a little forcefully, without bothering to look at him. I feel powerful.

It works. He sits back down in the chair.

After a long moment of silence, I decide to kick things up a notch, and move off the couch and approach him for the first time. I stalk forward, with the desk still separating us.

I put my palms straight down on the desk and lean on them, still staring at him. A small smirk has returned to my face. I can't help it. I feel so crafty right now.

Up close, I can now see that Christian's hands are clutching the tops of his armrests so hard that his knuckles are turning white. I want to hug myself with satisfaction. This is working.

"This is quite a performance, Miss Steele," he says hoarsely – his usually suave, arrogant self slipping…

"Well, I'm happy to hear than I can entertain you, Mr. Grey," I respond, my voice as smooth as silk.

"What brought this on?"

When he asks this, I straighten up from my stance on his desk. I move to my left, gracefully stalking around the desk and trailing the fingertips of my right hand against the dark wood as I go.

I slowly move around the side of the desk, and walk with deliberate ease towards where he sits, not breaking eye contact the whole time. With each step, my heels make a distinct _click, click _in slow succession.

I finally come to halt in the space between where he sits and the desk.

I can see his arousal very obviously now. My grin gets wider. I haven't been anywhere near him yet, and I can still do that.

The edge of the desk is up against my rear, so I hoist myself up so I'm sitting right in front of him now. I cross my legs again and rest my folded hands on top of my knees in a business-like manner, and cock my head slightly at him.

"What brought this on?" I repeat his question. "Well, honestly it was that insulting comment you made to me last night."

Confusion sweeps across his face before I continue.

"You called me 'easy'…"

His eyes widen at my words. I think he finally understands what I'm doing…what I'm _not_ going to do…

I smile serenely at him as I go on. "That part I could have gotten over, but it got me thinking…You're entirely too used to getting what you want. In fact, I highly doubt there's been very many times when you've heard the word 'no'…"

As I finish speaking, I take him by surprise and suddenly put each of my heels on the chair on either side of his legs, and use them to jerk his chair forward to me.

His breathing hitches visibly as I bring him right in front of me and lean my face down so it's inches from his. I trail my fingers up his throat and gently grasp his chin in my hand, feeling the stubble under my fingers.

"And I wouldn't want my soon-to-be-husband getting spoiled on me," I whisper, letting my breath hit his face. As soon as the words are out, I again, put my teeth into my bottom lip.

I see and hear him gasp.

He loosens his death grip on the armrests and reaches up for my hips, but I'm a beat faster.

As soon as I see this, I use my feet, which are still resting on the chair, and push back roughly. This sends him rolling quickly backward several feet across the white floor with a shocked but highly excited expression on his face.

"Nah, ah, ah," I scold, waving my index finger at him. "You can look, Mr. Grey, but you can't touch. At least not yet…" I smile wickedly at him.

I hop down from my perch and gracefully turn to examine his huge work area. The first thing I see is his computer screen. The background is the picture of Christian and me that the photographer took at Jose's art show. Wow.

Smiling, I glance the other way and see, the solar-powered wooden _Charlie Tango _I gave him for his birthday a few weeks ago. I had forgotten that he said he would put it here. Continuing my examination, I see something that takes me totally by surprise. It's a framed 5x7 picture of me – a picture of me sleeping! _What the hell? When did he take this?_

I gingerly pick the picture up and bring it up to my face to get a closer look.

My hair is sprayed out around me on the pillow. My hand is neatly tucked beneath my face, and my expression exemplifies peaceful serenity. The top of my bare shoulder can be seen where the edge of the sheet ends. It must have been taken in early morning because the picture seems to be lit with soft, natural light instead of the harsh flash of a camera.

My mouth pops open as I stare at it blankly. I finally look over at Christian who is looking at me intently with a trace of amusement in his gray eyes.

I decide to keep up with the trend of playful banter.

"Alright, pervert. When did you take this?" I demand, narrowing my eyes at him.

He grins, unashamed – not that I expected him to be.

"About two weeks ago."

I shake my head as I carefully put it back where it was.

The last thing that I notice is the model glider I gave him sitting on its glass stand. My face splits into a huge grin despite myself. I lean down slightly and brush it with my fingertip.

"I told you it had a special place on my desk," Christian murmurs from behind me.

I turn to beam at him. I feel like I need to explain something.

"The last time I was here, you told me you liked to build things – know how they work – what makes them tick," I say, recalling his exact words. "If I remember correctly, I told you that it sounded like your heart talking…That's why I got it when I saw it. The fact that it was a glider just happened to make it perfect."

Christian's eyes light up at my words and he gives me his shy smile that demolishes everything its path.

"You're amazing, Ana," he says, sincerely.

"Tell me something I don't know, Mr. Grey," I say, suddenly back on my original mission.

He just smirks in response.

I glance at the clock on the wall. _Time to wrap it up._

I slink towards him where he still sits. When I stand directly in front if him, I lean down, placing my hands over his on the armrests to make sure they don't move. I bring my face right up to his and skim my nose against his.

Pinning him with an intense look, I bring my lips against his lightly, but not quite kissing him.

I part my lips slowly, making his do the same thing. Our breaths are mingling together, and we're still staring opened-eyed at one another. This close, I can see his pupils dilate with lust. I lean slightly more into him, giving the impression that I'm about to kiss him. He closes his eyes in response and lifts his face upward. I smirk and move swiftly away from his lips, and instead, give him a loud kiss on the cheek. When I pull back, I see the red lip imprint that it's left.

When his eyes fly open, they're burning with need and carnal desire.

"So this was your little plan…to tease me at work?" he accuses, narrowing his eyes.

My face is still right in front of his as I grin.

"Oh no, Mr. Grey. This is the just the floor show." I move my lips right up to his ear. "When you get home, you're gunna work for it," I whisper. I hear him gasp and feel him stiffen in response. I smile and lightly bite his earlobe, making him groan.

"Good things come to those who wait, Mr. Grey. Very good things…" I promise as I pull back and stand straight up.

I turn and sashay away from him and back around his desk.

As I reach for my coat, I turn back to him.

"What do you want for lunch?" I ask, changing direction. I know he left without eating this morning, and I'm not sure if he got anything after arriving here.

He blinks at my random question.

"Surprise me," he mutters.

"Oh, I think I've already done that, baby," I say as I shrug into my coat, but I leave it open.

"I really like bold Anastasia," he whispers, taking me off guard. I remember my last email to him.

"Don't forget brave…"

He smiles.

"I should be home in about two hours or so," he says, making it sound like both a threat and a promise.

"Let me know when you're on your way, okay?" I ask, pinning him with a serious look.

"What? I don't get to surprise you?" he teases.

"Nope. Because I still have more in store, and I need to know what kind of time table I have to work with."

"Okay, I'll let you know when I get off."

"Good. Cause if you don't, you'll just make it harder on yourself…" I smile as I let my threat hang in the air.

His eyes flare again. I know he's enjoying this game. I've presented him with a challenge, and my sweet, domineering, control-freak can't resist a challenge. He's playing right into my game…

"And one more thing," I add as I wrap the coat securely around and tie the belt tightly, obscuring my indecent get up. "Can you somehow either make sure Taylor and Sawyer stay in the office or make some excuse to get them out of the apartment? I don't want the security seeing all my devious workings laid out on display."

He cocks his head to the side, but nods in assent.

"Okay, then. I guess I'll see you later."

"I'll walk you out," he offers as he stands.

I start to protest, but decide against it. The thought of walking out with him in front of Blond Number One and Blond Number Two is just too tempting. As he comes forward I notice the red lip mark left from my kiss on his cheek. I'm about to tell him, but then stop myself. What he doesn't know won't kill him. I'll let the two women in the lobby make what they want of it. I have an overwhelming urge to hug myself with delight at this idea.

As I turn back towards the door, I wonder vaguely how long it will take for him to notice it.

I stride quickly to the door and unlock it. Christian trails close behind me. As we emerge, two blond heads whip around to observe us. Taylor is seated in the waiting room and quickly stands.

Christian has his hand hovering over the small of my back as he walks beside me, grinning. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the two poor women at the desk outright gawking. They no doubt see the lipstick on his cheek, making me wish intensely that I knew what they are thinking.

When we reach the elevator, Christian presses the call button as Taylor comes to stands a polite distance away from us. I glance at Andrea and Olivia who are still staring at us, astonished. _Watch and learn ladies…_

I grin, feeling devious again. I promised myself that I wouldn't _really _touch him until he got home – this was supposed to be all about teasing, but I can't help myself with the two Barbies looking on.

I fold my arms around Christian's neck, taking him by surprise.

With the help of my heels, it don't have to raise my face very far until it's right up to his.

"I'll see you when you get home, honey," I say dreamily and loud enough for my audience to hear. I very lightly push my fingers into his hair.

Christian smirks as he realizes my game and wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly to him.

"I love you, baby," he croons, matching my tone and practically making me melt.

"I love you, too," I respond, grinning at him. I move one of my hands to cradle his face as I close in to finally give him a kiss. Just as my lips brush his, though, he dramatically dips me so low that the ends my hair are touching the ground, and plants a loud, wet one on me. He pulls away and grins with boyish delight down at me for a moment before standing me upright, breathless.

_Well, I wanted a show…_

As the elevator pings and slides open, I turn and steal a quick glance back at the receptionist desk. Olivia has the phone in her hand, suspended half-way between her and the receiver as she's frozen in place, gaping at us. Andrea's mouth is forming a little _O_. I smile is satisfaction.

I step into the elevator with Taylor who is smiling as well. Just before the doors close, Christian takes me back to the same goodbye scene we had the last time I was here.

"Anastasia," he murmurs.

"Christian," I say, my voice not much higher than a whisper as the doors slide shut.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Going for a change in direction with this chapter. I thought Christian's POV would be more insightful here. I hope i captured the personality of our favorite CEO :)**

**CPOV:**

The doors close, cutting off my view of Ana. Just like the first time she was here, she leaves my name hanging in the air, sounding sexy as hell.

I shake my head in disbelief. This has turned out to be one hell of a day, and apparently, it's is going to get even more interesting.

I'm grinning when I turn to make my way back to my office. Andrea and Olivia are still gaping slightly. It makes me want to roll my eyes. I'm striding past the reception desk when Andrea snaps out of it and takes me by surprise.

"Um, Mr. Grey?" she asks tentatively.

I merely turn and raise my eyebrows at her expectantly.

She quickly snatches up a Kleenex from her desk area and shyly offers it to me.

"Uh, you have some – uh…" she stammers without meeting my eyes but gestures toward her cheek. She looks a little mortified.

What the hell is she talking about? My eyebrows come together as I take the Kleenex from her hand. I wipe it across the side of my face that she was indicating towards. When I pull it back to examine it, I see the red smear on the tissue. _Oh, fuck. _I remember the kiss that Ana planted on my cheek just minutes ago, and I realize that it's been there the whole time on display. I came out of my office with my fiancée and harlot red lips imprinted on my cheek.

I feel the blood rise to my face. _What the hell? Am I actually blushing right now?_

"Thanks, Andrea," I mumble as I quickly retreat back into my office and wipe the tissue across my face a couple of more times until it comes away clean. I want to laugh as I realize that Ana did this on purpose. I could tell she wanted to put on a display in the lobby…but this?

I sit back in my chair, reveling in what just happened. The pictures of her strutting around in here wearing that outfit…or lack of one…keeps dancing across my mind.

I try to dispel them when it starts registering in my crotch again. No need to torture myself further. I have a feeling she's going to be doing that enough on her own when I finally get home.

I grin. My little dom…

I haven't been told what to do and what not to do since Elena – except maybe by Mia…the feeling is alien, but I decide to go with it. I like seeing this side of Ana. Besides, I'm extremely excited to see whatever the hell she has waiting at home.

Sweet, unassuming Anastasia really seems to be coming out of her shell. I can't help but recall the memories of her at Clayton's – shy, red-faced, and flustered. The fidgeting, wide-eyed girl of that memory is not the seductive, sexy as fuck vixen that just walked out of my office. I never imagined one woman could contain the perfect balance of sweet, quiet, innocence and naughty, sexual, desire. She really is Aphrodite.

I lean back, and heave a sigh as I think about what her last email said about this. She claims that I'm the reason behind the change in her physical confidence. I feel a wave of satisfaction bloom through my chest with this piece of knowledge.

It's amazing to know that what she does for me emotionally, I can do for her physically.

Because she's done just that for me as well. She's broken through each and every wall that I spent years building, guiding me out of my dark past and into the light with her. She's brought me out of myself while she also protects me from myself – from the dark side of me that has dominated for so long now. With her, I'm learning to let go of it – that I'm okay without it, because she deserves that from me.

It's exhilarating and exciting at the same time that it's completely frightening. The control that I've desperately clung to for my whole life just utterly seems to evaporate. It makes me feel vulnerable and helpless – feelings that I have done everything to avoid since I was a child. I gaze at the portrait of her on the wall. Such a tiny slip of a girl yet she terrifies me and holds me together at the same time. She's my rock.

The thought of Ana ever walking away from me fills me with dread. She's my lifeline. I need her like I need air to breath, giving me the utmost desire to protect her. This feeling is hard to keep in check. I remember when she said she felt suffocated. It had knocked the breath out of me.

Elena used to use the same word when she spoke about Lincoln. He wouldn't let her do anything – just sit around like some ornament. This is what fueled her as a dominant. She was tired of being controlled.

That's around the time I came into the picture.

I recall the anger I felt toward Lincoln for this. At the time, Elena was my world, and I hated him for making her feel this way.

That's why the thought of me "suffocating" Ana in any way fills me with such horror – because I've seen what a suffocated woman is like and the resentment it leads to.

I shake my head to dispel such unpleasant thoughts and glance at the clock. Better get back to work. The faster I get done, the faster I can go home to whatever may await me.

Before returning to my list of things to do, I decide to email Ana. I never got a chance to respond to her last one. I had planned to do it when I called her, but she was already here…

**From: Christian Grey **

**Subject: Naked Saturdays?**

**Date: July 10, 2011 11:56 a.m.**

**To: Anastasia Steele **

Dear Miss Bold, Brave, and Devious,

Maybe I should leave you and those idle hands alone more often…I quite like the results. Who knew you could be such a conniving little schemer?

Feel free to barge in my office any day. Maybe next time we can try this game on a busy day full of meetings, with the door unlocked. Add more excitement…

By the way, thank you for letting me know that I had a lipstick hickey on my cheek…I think Andrea died a little on the inside, having to point it out.

To respond to your earlier email, I'm very glad that you feel that way. I never want you doubt yourself in any way.

Okay, we can talk about the Flynn topic later. I won't forget…

As Always,

Smitten, TOTALLY Shocked & Spellbound

Ps- This is the most interesting work day I've ever had…ever.

Christian Grey

Eager To Be Home CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

After I hit send, I quickly contact Taylor and give him something to occupy his time, making sure he stays in his office as Ana has asked.

I glance around my desk, prioritizing what work I have left, and then dive in.

A while later, I get another email from Ana.

**From: Anastasia Steel **

**Subject: Sitting on Pins and Needles.**

**Date: July 10, 2011 12:17 p.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

Dear S, S, &S,

I can't wait until you return home so I can finish my oh, so slow seduction of you, my love…

The idea of the unlocked door makes me think you like to play rather high-stake games…that's hot…

What lipstick? I have no idea what you're talking about… ;)

Don't forget to tell me when you come home, it's important…

Still very much,

Sex Mad & Insatiable

**From: Christian Grey **

**Subject: Hint, Hint…**

**Date: July 10, 2011 12:22 p.m.**

**To: Anastasia Grey **

Dear Sex Mad & Insatiable,

I'm yours, so seduction, albeit fun, is unnecessary. Feel free to skip it…

What happened to instant gratification? Because the way I feel right now, I'm strongly supporting it.

No worries, when I leave, you shall be the first to know.

Are you being sarcastic with me, Miss Steele?

Yours Now and Forever,

Christian xoxo

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

**From: Anastasia Steele **

**Subject: Carpe diem**

**Date: July 10, 2011 12:18 p.m.**

**To: Christian Grey **

Variety is the spice of life, Mr. Grey. We don't want to overuse instant gratification, now do we?

Me, Sarcastic? Never, Mr. Grey. I was once told that sarcasm was the lowest form of wit.

Now, get back to work so you can come home.

ILY x

Ana

**From: Christian Grey **

**Subject: Yes, Ma'am**

**Date: July 10, 2011 12:27 p.m.**

**To: Anastasia Steele **

Your wish is my command.

Laters baby,

Christian

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I send my last email and start on the last bunch of papers to go through and calls to make.

An hour later, I end the final phone call and glance at the clock.

Excitement bubbles up inside me. I don't think I've ever been quite this excited to go home before.

Fulfilling my promise, I open my email to let Ana know I'm on my way.

**From: Christian Grey **

**Subject: Homecoming**

**Date: July 10, 2011 1:34 p.m.**

**To: Anastasia Steele **

Dear Miss Steele,

By your request, I am letting you know that I will be leaving my office in a few short minutes.

I hope this has given you sufficient warning to have everything in order.

I can't wait to see what's in store.

Love,

Christian

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I shut everything down, and put everything back in its place on my desk before grabbing my keys to leave.

As I enter the lobby, Andrea looks up. She's alone, so I'm guessing Olivia's already gone home.

"I'm done, Andrea. You can go. Thanks again for coming in today," I tell her sincerely. Andrea is my right hand in the office. Efficiency could be her middle name, and she's definitely earned her overtime today.

"Okay. Have a good day, sir," she says brightly and starts gathering her things as well.

I tap my foot against the floor as I wait for the elevator. Could this thing be any fucking slower? I'm impatient to get home.

Finally, it makes its arrival, and I ride it down to the main lobby.

As I walk to the glass doors, I have to actively slow my stride down. I wouldn't want to alarm the receptionist by running out the door like a mad-man. I can imagine the office gossip that would incite.

I quickly climb in my R8 and, as soon as I hit the road, put my foot down.

It's Saturday, though, and traffic can't be helped, forcing me to slow down. Images of Ana and all the possible scenarios run through my head, torturing me once again. I wonder fleetingly if she'll still be wearing the same sexy attire. Or better yet…nothing at all… my groin responds to my erotic reveries as I weave between traffic.

When I finally pull into my parking space in the garage, I quickly kill the engine and gather my keys and phone.

I climb out of the car and stride quickly to the elevator. I put in the code to our floor and stand back to wait out the ride.

Excitement courses through me and my heart picks up a few beats. I can almost feel the anticipation in the air.

After what seems like an eternity, the doors slide open to our apartment. I step out and dart forward on my way into the great room. I stop short. There's a card taped there on the door.

I pull it off and examine it. My name is on the front.

Christian

I quickly flip it open and read the message.

Follow the yellow brick road, my love…

_What the hell? _I open the double doors and stop.

All of the thick, rarely used, black-out curtains have been pulled shut over the far-reaching glass wall, blocking out all natural light. All light in the room is emanating from candles.

From the doorway in the great room where I stand, a path has been made using candles. Every couple of feet sits a pair of candles that altogether form a visible walkway leading into the hall.

_Yellow brick road, huh?_

Well, there's no place like home…I start following the path set out for me.

I'm soon walking through our open bedroom door, where the candle path continues. The curtains have been closed in here too. As I cross the threshold, I can faintly hear music, but I can't make out what it is. I quickly follow the flaming path to the bathroom door where the music gets louder. There's another white card taped to it, just like the great room. I open it and read the brief command.

Get Naked.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm lounging in the hot bath. There's a plethora of bubbles, obscuring everything except my head which lulls backward. I have my hair piled on top of my head so I don't get it wet.

I have the iPod dock sitting on the counter and playing the special playlist I made just an hour ago for this.

Right now, the explicit lyrics of "Skin" by Rihanna are playing.

I pop a few bubbles in front of me as I wait on Christian. He should be here any minute.

I utilized every second I could after I got his email confirming that he was on his way. It took for damn ever to light all the candles while the bath filled with hot water.

Right after I got home from his office, I went ahead and placed all the candles where I wanted them. It would've been ideal to break all these candles out at night, but luckily, the heavy curtains give the same impression.

Now, the flames of the candles resting on the counter and floor bounce off the white surfaces of the bathroom as the music plays.

The motion of the door suddenly catches my eye. _He's here._

I lazily turn my head to him. _Well, he did as the card said._

He's glorious naked as he stands there, taking in the sight around him.

A slow smile spits my face.

"Join me," I suggest over the music. He immediately complies and saunters over to bathtub. He steps in and sinks down into the mass of bubbles and hot water making the water line rise abruptly and sloshing sudsy water onto the floor. He sits opposite of me, putting both feet on either side of my hips. I bring my knees up towards my chest – not ready to touch yet.

I silently stare at him with a small smile playing on my lips.

_"No heels, no shirt, no skirt. All I'm in is just skin. No jeans – taken 'em off. Wanna feel your skin…" _Rihanna continues to sing seductively.

Christian just gazes right back at me with amusement in his gray eyes. Seems like the shock has worn off since I left the office. He's the first to break the silence.

"You did a fantastic job with these candles," he compliments – his voice having the texture of satin.

"Thank you. I've always thought there was something very sexy about candles."

"Very sexy, indeed," he purrs, and I know he's not talking about the candles by the tone of his voice.

We lapse back into silence and I lean back some more, letting out a contented sigh as I close my eyes and let the warmth of the water leech into my skin.

I inhale deeply, enjoying the sweet smell created by the bubble bath that has made the thick layer of foaming suds on the surface of the water.

I slowly move my hands to each of Christian's feet. With my fingertips, I lightly stroke the top of each foot, slowly, rhythmically. I keep my eyes closed as I bring my hands back and forth.

With each stroke, I move my fingers up higher, letting them trail further up onto his ankle every time.

Soon, my fingers are halfway up is shin. When my arms will no longer reach any further from where I'm sitting, I pull my eyelids open to find him staring at me intensely. I unbend my knees and move my feet on either side of his hips as well. I scoot forward to get closer to him, still trailing my fingers upward as I go. I skate my fingers up over his thighs and hips before reaching his belly, carefully avoiding a very important place…

I trail my wandering fingers up his belly, across his sculpted abs and make my way to his chest. He still stiffens slightly, but I suspect it's more from habit than discomfort. I let my fingertips brush over his nipples, then up over his muscular pectorals. Finally, I reach his shoulders, which are above the water, and move up his neck to cradle his face.

With my damp fingers, I trace the handsome plains of his face as his smoldering eyes burn into me.

When I'm done, I use my hands to gently pull his face closer to mine. I start with a few soft kisses on his face, then trail my parted lips down his cheek to the corner of his mouth. I plant another slow kiss there before putting my lips right in front of his. His lips part as well as I tease him, so close yet so far. Finally, I put us both out of our misery, and put my mouth to his.

Immediately, I push my tongue out to meet his and grab a fistful of his unruly hair.

I don't protest when he brings his hands up to lightly rest on my hips. _As long as they stay there…_

I can't stop myself from instinctively inching closer during our passionate exchange. Soon, I'm almost pressed up against his chest.

Using every ounce of willpower that I have left, I pull back. We're both breathless.

"I think we should get you clean before we get you dirty, Mr. Grey," I suggest, pointedly.

"How about we both just go ahead and get filthy?" he asks, slowing his breathing.

"Not yet." I smirk and reach over for the body wash and cloth.

Once I get a lather worked up, I start at the base of his throat and work down his shoulder. Lifting one, then the other, I scrub both arms and underarms slowly and efficiently.

Then, I move to the portion of his chest that is visible above the water. By now, a lot of the suds have dissipated, making it easier to accomplish.

I dip below the waterline and continue to slowly rub in small circles. As I drop lower I soon abandon the washcloth and just trail my fingers across his hard belly. With no warning or preamble whatsoever, I grab his length while still staring straight into his eyes.

He gasps in surprise and his hands grip my hips where they still rest. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, and I feel him hardening further in my hand.

Slowly, I start moving my hand up and down like he's taught me.

"Christ, Ana," he hisses.

Those two words are like magic to me. Magic which ignites my blood and makes everything below my belly button clench deliciously.

I want him in my mouth, but that's going to have to wait. Instead, I loosen my grip and change tactics, so my fingertips are only lightly stroking him.

He reopens his eyes, and in the flickering candle light, they are gray fire.

Slowly, I halt my erotic assault on him and slide back again, away from him, leaving him hanging. I feel downright criminal, making me smile.

"So, how does simple hamburgers and French fries for lunch sound?" I ask, randomly bringing up lunch again.

Again, this takes Christian by surprise, but he smile and nods.

"That sounds delicious."

"Good. I could use your help with the potatoes too," I add. I don't actually need his help. In fact, things would probably go much faster if I did it myself, but the temptation to watch him attempt to do something in the kitchen is far too strong.

"Okay," he agrees, with a small smile lighting his face.

"Alright, you sit here and enjoy the rest of the bath, and I'll go get started," I announce as I rise and quickly yank up a towel to wrap around myself. I dry myself off just enough to stop dripping, and head for the door.

"I'll see you in a few. Oh, and bring the iPod when you get done, please," I add before opening the door, and stealing back into the bedroom.

The trail of flames are still flickering beautifully around the room. Beside the bathroom door, I see Christian's clothes in a heap on the floor. I smile. The 'get naked' card was clever. I don't know how long he'll stay in there, so I hurry, finishing wiping the water from my body and letting my hair free from the top of my head.

I quickly think about what to put on. Damn, I should have already had this planned. I toy with the idea of donning the stripper outfit I had on earlier, but decide against it. Didn't I tell him that variety is the spice of life? I need to wear something different. Hmm.

I rummage through my drawer and find a royal blue pair of lacey, silk panties. I quickly locate the matching bra and pull them both on. An idea occurs to me and I look back at the pile of Christian's clothes. I hastily pull his white button down off the floor and slip it on, rolling the too-big sleeves up to my elbows. I don't bother buttoning it, but leave it hanging wide open.

I fleetingly consider putting the skyscraper Louboutins back on, but decide against that as well. Instead, I grab another hair tie and pull my hair into pigtails. To top it all off, I walk over to the dresser where several bottles of my favorite lotions and perfumes rest and quickly scan my options. I reach for my favorite perfume – Romance by Ralph Lauren – and spray some on my pulse points. There, that should do it.

I meander out of the bedroom and follow my 'yellow brick road' back out. When I reach the kitchen, I switch the light on, dispelling the candle-lit darkness.

I quickly set out everything I'll need: the hamburger meat, a skillet, the potatoes, the deep fryer, cooking grease, and several more odds and ends.

I wash my hands and set out the cutting board, lining the washed potatoes up next to it – this will be Christian's job. I smile. This will be entertaining.

Five minutes later, I'm still rummaging around and setting everything in order, when Christian saunters in. I glance up fleetingly before doing a double take. He's shirtless and wearing those damn pajama pants. The ones that hang off of his hips in that insanely sexy way… _Grrrrr! He knows what he's doing…_

Can I blame him though? I am, after all, doing the same thing…

"Hello," I say pleasantly, giving none of my lustful thoughts away in my voice. However, I have to literally force myself not to stare at his defined hip flexors. I must personally thank Claude when I see him again for contributing to my man's hot physic.

"Hi," he murmurs when he comes to a halt at the breakfast bar. "Want me to put the music on?" he asks, holding up my iPod in his hand.

"Please."

He turns and makes his way over to the iPod dock and sets it in.

"Anything particular you want to hear?"

"No, just keep it on the same playlist," I answer, smiling to myself. I specifically named the playlist "Naked Saturday" to reference an earlier email of his.

In a few moments, a song I haven't heard since the last time I watched Dirty Dancing – "Hungry Eyes" – starts playing. I smile…_perfect. _He turns the volume to a comfortable level and comes to take a seat in one of the bar stools.

"You mind helping me in a few minutes?" I ask innocently.

"Sure," he answers wholeheartedly with a sweet, boyish smile on his angel's face.

Before we start on the potatoes, I need to get the burgers fixed so they can be browning as we work.

I set the skillet on the stove, and set the hamburger meet beside it on the counter. I gingerly slide my engagement ring off and place it on the counter so it doesn't get smothered in raw meat.

I take a fistful of hamburger and start molding it into the shape of a patty.

As I roll and knead the meat, I sway my hips to the music and sing quietly along with the lyrics. I'm facing away from Christian, so I know this gives him a good view.

_ "I look at you and I fantasize…You're mine tonight…Now, I've... got you in my sights – with these…Hungry eyes…One look at you and I can't disguise…I've got…Hungry eyes…"_

With the patty that I'm still squishing in between my hands, I turn around to face Christian while still swaying and bobbing my head to the beat as I sing the next line.

_"I feel the magic between you and I…"_

Christian regards me with amusement as he sits there, resting his elbows on the counter. After a few more beats, I turn back to my work, setting the raw hamburgers in the skillet. I'm reminded of my first morning here – when I was cooking breakfast with pigtails, dancing to music on my iPod all while wearing his shirt. _Jeez._ _Seems like I'm having a lot of deja-vu today…_When that's done, I wash my hands thoroughly and slide my ring back on before I grab the seasoning and sauce to add some flavor to the patties. While the meat browns, I set to the next task at hand.

"Ready for another cooking lesson?" I challenge.

He doesn't answer, just merely smirks and walks over to me.

I quickly demonstrate what I want done to the potatoes and cautiously hand him a knife. He eyes it thoughtfully for a moment, before accepting it. While he oh, so slowly begins with that, I prepare the fryer for whenever the potatoes are ready to go in. I add the cooking grease and set the siphon in.

When that's ready to go, I join Christian who is still on the first potato. He's concentrating very hard as if he's trying to solve a Calculus problem.

"Are you chopping it, or giving it a Thai massage?" I tease. He gives me a sour look.

An idea strikes me like lightning. It makes me want to look up to see of there's a light bulb floating above my head.

"Here," I say, reaching for his hand. He stops and looks up at me.

"Like this," I offer casually, and very slyly, step in front of him, bringing his arms around me and putting my hands over his.

Pulling him tight against me, I guide his hands with mine, slicing the potato much more quickly. I casually keep swaying slightly and singing to myself, this time to "Everything" by Michael Buble – one of my favorites.

He doesn't seem to be paying much attention to the little lesson though, but buries his face into my neck and inhales deeply. I'm suddenly grateful for my decision to use the Ralph Lauren.

He apparently notices because he makes an appreciative sound in his throat.

I continue to cut the potato using his hands until it's completely finished.

"There. You think you can handle it now?" I ask as I release him, but stay put, making no move to walk away from him.

"Cooking's fun with you," he mutters into my ear, nuzzling my neck. My belly clenches at his proximity. _Well, if he wants to play it that way…_

"Oh really?" I drawl, as I put my hands back over his and bring them to my body instead. Guiding his hands, I place them on my rib cage just below my bra. Very slowly, I slide them down, across my ribs and onto my belly. I lean back into his chest as I go, letting my head lull back onto his shoulder. I can feel him hardening behind me. I smile.

When his hands hit the waistline of my panties, I start guiding his right hand back up while keeping his left splayed across my belly. When he reaches my bra again, I guide it over my breasts and onto my sternum and chest. Still moving at a sensual pace, I use his fingers to trace my collar bone before moving up my throat to my jaw. I then rest the side of my face into his wide hand, caressing my cheek.

I turn and plant a kiss in the middle of his palm, then turn his hand so I can take his middle finger into my mouth. I slid it all the way to the last knuckle, and suck on it. When I slid it back out, I graze my teeth all the way down.

I hear him groan in the back of his throat.

I very abruptly release him altogether and dance away from him, picking the beat of the music back up.

"I think you can manage it now," I say nonchalantly and pick up my own knife to start on another potato.

He shakes his head with an incredulous smile on his face, but picks his knife back up and goes for another potato. He moves a little faster, and seems more sure of himself. So I guess my little teaching exercise really did work.

We work in silence with only the music making any sound.

Soon, we're done with the potatoes.

"You make a good sioux chef," I tell him as he sits back down. I gather all the potato slices from the cutting board and into a bowl.

I put some into the siphon, and dip it into the now hot grease, making a loud sizzling noise. I all but completely ignore the beautiful man staring at me as I work.

While waiting for the fries to get crispy, I turn to check on the burgers, flipping them. They're almost ready.

I take out another big bowl and pour the first batch of fries in, before throwing some more in.

Just as I'm lowering them back into the grease, another song starts playing. I want to laugh out loud. I look up at Christian.

"Ooh. Go turn it up. This is your theme song!" I exclaim, amusedly. His eyebrows knit together questioningly, but he gets up and does as I've asked.

The song is "For Your Entertainment" by Adam Lambert. I've had this song for a while, but it took on a whole different meaning when I met Christian. Well, that and "S/M" by Rihanna…

I hear the volume increase just enough to make conversation difficult.

I start bouncing around and singing along again, Christian returns to his place on the stool.

_ "So hot, out the box. Can we pick up the pace? Turn it up, heat it up. I need to be entertained. Push the limit. Are you with it? Baby, don't be afraid." _

I look right at him as I mouth along with the next line.

_"Imma hurt ya real good, baby…"_

I don't look long enough to gage his reaction, but turn back to the task before me while Adam Lambert sings the next few lines. I continue to lip sync along, glancing back up right before the chorus with the words

"_Give it to ya till you're screaming my name…"_

A little shocked expression crosses his face. I quickly dump the fries into the bowl and put in the last portion to fry.

I dance around as I check the burgers – Almost done.

I whirl back around to face Christian again who looks amused as the first chorus closes and the second verse starts.

_"Baby, I'm in control. Take the pain. Take the pleasure – I'm the master of both. Close your eyes, not your mind. Let me into your soul. Imma work it till ya totally blown…"_

I waggle my eyebrows at him while I sing the part about pain, pleasure, and being master…

He's fighting a smile when I shuffle my way around the kitchen as I get ready to prepare our meal. I take out two plates, two hamburger buns, cheese, and the condiments. I quickly dump the last of the fries into the bowl, and slide both burgers into the buns, placing the cheese on top. Just as I'm getting the placemats and napkins out, the song comes to a close and Christian uses the remote to turn the volume back down to a comfortable level as "Run" by Matt Nathanson and Jennifer Nettles starts to play softly in the background.

"Yes, I have to agree with you – that song does seem to be quite fitting," he mutters. I simply smile back knowingly at him.

Instead of putting the place settings at the bar, where we usually eat, I move to the dining table and set everything up before returning with our plates. Christian has gotten up and collected two glasses and a bottle of wine before joining me at the table. Hmm, I've never had wine with burgers before.

I dump a nice amount of honey mustard onto my plate, making Christian raise his eyebrows.

"Yes, I love honey mustard," I answer, a little crabbily, making him grin.

Christian fixes his own burger before bringing it to his lips and sinking his teeth in. When he swallows he compliments me once again on my cooking.

"I couldn't have done it without you," I say sweetly, making him roll his eyes. I press my hand down on the top bun of my burger, squishing it down some more. When I bring it to my lips, I hold Christian's eyes before very slowly put it in my mouth and bite down in a very exaggerated way, making a sound of appreciation in my throat. "Hmm." I chew slowly, watching as his glittering eyes flicker to my mouth. _Oh yes!_

When I swallow, I eat a couple of fries, before doing it again, this time a little more subtly.

We continue this way in silence, still listening to the music that plays.


	9. Chapter 9

It doesn't take long for us to finish the greasy but delicious meal. I sop up the last of the honey mustard with the last two fries and chase it with a long drought of wine. Christian leans casually back in his seat as I stand and gather our plates and placemats and move back to the kitchen. I run water over our plates and quickly place them in the dishwasher. I debate whether or not to clean up the kitchen. There's nothing I hate more than to leave dirty dishes and a mess behind in the kitchen, but I decide to just wait. It'll kill the mood if I start scrubbing pans.

Instead, I meander back to the table and return to my seat, taking another sip of wine.

"So, do I get desert?" Christian asks, with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Hmm," I make a show of pretending to deliberate. "I don't know…You _have_ been awfully good…"

Christian's eyes flash dangerously.

"I guess it depends on what you want…" I trail off as I rise, making my chair slide back a little bit. I press my palms down on the table and lean on them. Very slowly, I also bring my knee up, hoisting myself onto the table top.

I bring the other knee up too, so now I'm on all fours and slowly crawling across the table towards where he sits, looking surprised.

His eyes have popped wide again, and his lips are parted.

When I reach the edge of the table in front of him, I bring one knee, then the other, out from underneath me, so I'm sitting.

Reaching out, I place my hands on his shoulders and carefully lower myself into his lap so I'm straddling him. The tips of my toes barely touch the floor.

I wrap my arms around his neck and bring my face right up to his.

"Seduced yet?" I whisper, wiggling against his erection.

"Most definitely," he whispers back, breathless.

I smile against his lips and run my fingers through his hair, scraping my fingernails against his scalp. _Okay. One last time…_

I very abruptly rise from his lap, leaving him sitting there, gaping. I collect both of our empty wine glasses and scamper back to the sink before he has the chance to do anything. I set the glasses in the sink and clear away a few more things as Christian comes walking towards me, a look of determination on his face.

"So, Mr. Grey…for desert, would you rather have French vanilla or fudge chocolate?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. He knows what I'm talking about.

"Fudge chocolate takes too long," he states matter-of-factly.

"Okay. French vanilla coming right up," I declare and grab his hips, dragging him a couple of steps forward to me.

His lips attack mine in a nanosecond. I can feel all of his pent up desire unfolding into my mouth. I reach up and place my hands on his ribcage and push him into the fridge, hard. He moans low into my mouth and uses one hand to push his shirt off of my shoulders. It's so big that it merely falls to the floor with no trouble. I reach up and braid my fingers into his hair as our tongues continue to collide.

One of his hands is tightly gripping my backside while the other is trailing up my back. When it makes contact with my bra, he very skillfully unhooks it, making it go slack. I reluctantly tear my hands away from his hair to let it drop off my shoulders and onto the kitchen floor.

When I bring my arms back up, Christian stoops suddenly, placing both hands on the backs of my thighs where my legs curve into my ass, and picks me up. I'm forced to wrap my legs tightly around him as we go back to kissing roughly.

Christian walks us both back to the kitchen table where he leans down, pressing my back into the hard table top. _Ooh, on the kitchen table? That's hot…_

He pulls away from my mouth, letting me breathe while he continues downward. He kisses from my jaw to my collar bone, and then makes his way lower over my breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth, making me moan and arch my body off the table. While he rolls one around in his skilled mouth, he teases the other with his hand, squeezing it, hard.

I'm panting beneath him as he switches to the other breast and does the same thing.

When he's done, he licks from my sternum, all the way down my belly, to the waistline of my panties. When he hits that boundary, he glances up at me through his lashes and very slowly, takes the material between his teeth, and starts working it down while his hands rest on my hips. _Oh my! _I nearly convulse watching this. Everything inside me clenches almost painfully as excitement courses through me. I'm on fire – burning with desire for this man.

He continues to use his teeth, pulling my panties all the way down my legs until they hit the floor. He smirks and grabs my ankle. He yanks me hard toward him until the edge of the table is on my backside, my legs hanging completely off. He pushes my legs wide apart and starts kissing from my knee, heading upward.

I moan again. I know what's about to happen and the anticipation is torturous.

Finally, his mouth makes contact with their goal. My body bows again in response to his tongue.

"Ana, you're always so wet."

"Christian," I moan loudly and grab a fistful of his hair as his head bobs in between my legs.

Finally, he removes his tongue, and starts kissing his way back up my body.

When he again reaches my mouth, he stops suddenly and shuffles out of his pants.

Grabbing my hips, he surprises me and flips me onto my front so I'm bending over the table and resting on my elbows and forearms.

I feel his tongue licking down my spine.

"Christian, please," I beg, breathlessly. I'm literally aching.

"What do you want, Anastasia?" he asks gruffly, as his erection presses against my backside.

"I want you inside me," I whimper.

"You want it, you got it, baby," he announces hoarsely.

Out of no where, his hand slaps my backside hard and he immediately slams into me, hitting the sweet spot. I groan, loudly. "Again," I plead.

He stills and very slowly, eases back out. His hand comes down again on the opposite side, hard and unforgiving. It stings, but exacerbates the deep ache inside of me right before he rams into me, eradicating the ache altogether.

"Oh, fuck," I cry out.

"God, Ana," he hisses as I push back onto him this time. He starts pounding into me at a slow pace. It's torturous and delicious at the same time.

Finally I can take no more. "Please, Christian, faster," I gasp almost incoherently.

He apparently understands my garbled plea because he starts a pounding rhythm. Fast and hard.

I can feel myself going higher, and higher…I start to tense and quiver as I get closer to the edge.

"Give it up, Ana," Christian commands from behind me with a deep thrust. I moan loudly as I come crashing back down and completely unravel at the seams. Christian follows close behind, calling out my name and stilling as he finds his release inside me.

We're sitting on the dining room floor, recovering our wits. Christian has his arms around me, holding me close. I crane my neck around to look at him.

"So?"

"So what?" he asks, confused.

"Was it worth the wait?" I ask?

A dazzling smile lights up his face.

"Yes, Miss Steele. It was definitely worth the wait," he answers, giving me a swift kiss on the lips.

"So, how do you like it?" he inquires. Now it's my turn to be confused.

"Like what?"

"Being in charge – making all the decisions," he clarifies, watching me intently.

"Eh," I remark flippantly, shrugging. "It was fun watching you play along, but it's a little too much work if you ask me."

He chuckles. "Well, baby, I have to say, you make quite the dominatrix."

"I hardly think that can be considered dom-anything, Christian," I chide. "That was all in good fun. Besides, I told you – you get your way all the time. I just figured it was time you tried something different."

I keep my tone nonchalant, but I'm still cringing at the dominatrix comment. I know he was only teasing, but the thought of me dominating period is abhorrent. It would make me like Evil Bitch Troll…I inwardly shudder. I haven't thought about her since Christian's birthday. I vaguely wonder if he's heard from her. For a moment, I think about asking him, but stop myself. That would kill both our moods. So, instead, I dispel all such thoughts and turn my wandering attention back to him.

"Well, I quite liked it." I can hear the obvious surprise in his voice. Of course, my little control-freak isn't used to anyone else calling the shots. No one has for a long time…again, my thoughts flicker to Elena…_Dammit. Stop thinking about her!_

"See?" I say pointedly, turning to face him. "Letting go of just a little control isn't so bad…" I hold my thumb and index finger out, less than an inch apart when I say 'little' to emphasize my meaning. He gives me a sad expression.

"I've told you, Anastasia, I need control. I can't function without it," he says sounding exasperated as he runs his hand through his hair. _Shit. Didn't mean to be a buzz-kill._

"I know. I know," I say quickly, trying to explain what I meant. "And I completely understand why – really I do. I wouldn't want you to try to change that. I meant it when I told you last night that I wouldn't change you for anything, Christian. It's apart of who you are, and I love the man you are more than you will ever know. I just wish you would let go enough so you could relax. I know that in the long run, you'll be happier instead of so pent up from trying to achieve something that's impossible. You're going to give yourself a brain aneurism before you're forty, and I don't want that. I want to be able to grow old and gray with you by my side." I finish softly as I caress his cheek with my fingertips.

His eyes are wide. He looks lost. _Oh, my lost boy…how can I make you see?_

The vulnerability on his face pulls at my heart. God, I love this man so much it hurts.

"It's hard," he whispers.

"I know it is, and it's not going to happen overnight. It'll take some time. The reason you've clung to it for so long now is because it gives you power. It keeps you safe because it keeps you from having to depend on anyone else for anything. It's been the way that you've protected yourself from anymore pain when you've suffered so much already. But in the past, you didn't have someone to lean on; someone you can let your guard down with; someone to protect you. You didn't have me," I say, my voice dropping to a whisper by the end. Christian looks even more lost, downright terrified as I continue.

"But now you do, and you need to learn to depend on me. Because that's what I'm here for. Your control has been the way you've distanced yourself from people, Christian, and I don't want you to distance yourself from me. There's no need. I promise that I will never hurt you. I love you beyond what words can express, and despite what you seem to think, I'm not a damsel in distress who needs to be sheltered from everything. In fact, I'm a very strong person, Christian – strong enough for you to lean on when you need to. Yes, I know all of this is a hard change for you, but you need to realize that you don't have to do this alone. I'm going to be right here with you every step of the way." I stop to cradle his beautiful face in my hands.

"But I need you to let me help you. I'm scared just like you are. We're going through this whole learning process together. We've already come so far, but we still have a long way ahead of us. It won't always be easy, but nothing in life worth having ever is. But no matter what, you'll always have me right beside you."

I stop. Tears are starting to pool in my eyes. I kiss Christian on the cheek before surrounding him with my arms, holding him to me while he buries his face into my neck. I'm shocked at myself.

_Where did all that come from? One second we were joking about being a dominatrix and the second I'm pouring out my heart and soul…_ I glance around. We're both still sitting naked on the kitchen floor with me in his lap. _Jeez. Not exactly ideal surroundings for such a heart-to-heart conversation. The candle-lit bedroom would've been much more romantic._ The thought makes me smile ruefully.

"I need you so much, Ana," Christian almost sobs into my neck, gripping me tighter to him.

"And I you, Christian," I say as I lightly pull his hair through my fingers while I rub my other hand up and down his back, reassuringly. "And I you," I repeat and lean the side of my head against his.

We stay like that for an immeasurable amount of time. Finally, an idea comes to me when I realize that the music is still playing the background. We've been so lost in each other, I hadn't even noticed.

"Come on," I say as I move, and stagger to my feet. Needles seem to be in my legs as the blood pumps through them. I hand him his sweat pants from where they are lying on the floor. While he stands to put them on, I quickly locate my discarded panties, and shuffle back into the kitchen to pick up his white button down. I slip it back on, buttoning it this time.

After I slip my panties back on, I walk over to where the iPod dock is and skim through until I find the song I'm looking for. I turn the volume up as the first words of Carrie Underwood's rendition of "I'll Stand by You" float into the room.

I meekly walk back to Christian and hold out my hand which he takes without hesitation. "Dance with me," I whisper as I pull him closer.

I wrap both arms around his neck as his arms surround my waist, pulling me against him.

Again, I let one hand travel to his unruly, just-fucked hair as I rest one in the middle of his upper back while he leans down to nestle his face into my neck. We slowly start swaying to the music, lost in our own little piece of heaven together. I nuzzle my head against Christian's and put my mouth close to his ear. I whisper along with the words, emphasizing them to him.

_"When the night falls on you, and you don't know what to do…Nothing you confess could make me love you less." _I squeeze him tighter.

_"I'll stand by you. I'll stand by you. I won't let nobody hurt you. I'll stand by you…"_

We continue into our blissful piece of sweet intimacy as we sway in gentle circles around the kitchen.

_"Take me in into your darkest hour, and I'll never desert you. I'll stand by you…"_

When the song comes to a close, we stop moving, but we stay locked in our embrace – just holding each other.

Christian is the first to break the silence.

"Come to bed with me," he pleads in a whisper, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Okay," I concede immediately.

He takes my hand, and leads me back down the path outlined by the still-flickering candles.


	10. Chapter 10

Once inside our dimly-lit bedroom, he shuts the door and takes me into his arms again, kissing me with gentle passion. I can feel his love pouring out of him through this kiss as I try to communicate the same.

He slowly walks me backward while his fingers undo the buttons on his shirt before he pushes it off of my shoulders, letting it hit the floor. When the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed, he reaches over and pulls the covers down and slowly lowers me onto the mattress, climbing on top of me.

He continues to kiss me this way, my mouth answering every unspoken question that his ask. I can feel every sweet inch of him pressed firmly into me, though he's bearing most of his weight on his forearms on either side of me. I can feel his arousal pushing against me through his pajama pants and my thin panties.

I whimper into his mouth as my fingers pull on his hair. He removes his mouth from mine, but his lips don't leave my skin. Instead, he trails sweet, sensual kisses down my throat to my chest. He tenderly fondles one breast while he kisses and licks the opposite nipple, making me moan, low and needy.

He slowly starts the journey back up, and I bring my knees further up to hook my big toes in the waistband of his pants. Using just my feet, I push them over his hips and down his legs. He kindly helps me, and between the two of us, we strip them off. He responds by rolling off to the side momentarily to slide my panties quickly down my legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor.

He climbs back onto me dragging the sheets up with him which he surrounds us with. He pushes my legs further apart with his knee, and cradles my face with one of his hands. Leaning his forehead against mine, he stares straight into my eyes, as if he can see straight into my soul while I grip both of his shoulders.

"I love you, Ana," he whispers just as he sinks very slowly into me. My body bows into him, as I moan and close my eyes. The feeling of utter fullness – of completeness – is exquisite. "I love you, too, Christian," I gasp.

He doesn't move at first, just rests inside me, feeling me, cherishing me, as he gazes down at me with eyes shining with love.

I gently grasp his face with one of my hands and pull his lips to mine. As our tongues caress each other, he moves, slowly.

He pulls back, then fills me yet again, pausing again to just feel. Another whimper escapes me as he gently bites into my lower lips and sucks on it. I reciprocate with his upper lip.

He starts a slow, gentle rhythm. Our breaths are mingling together while we continue to gaze at each other, our foreheads still touching as we make love. I move one hand over his shoulder to his copper hair, and trail the other one under his arm to wrap around his waist. I trace down the hard plains of his well-muscled lower back, moving until I reach his oh, so fine backside, squeezing, and making him thrust into me sharply. I cry out.

"Yes, let me hear you, baby," Christian says above me, making me groan low in my throat.

I let my hand trail slowly back up, coming to rest between his shoulder blades. I wrap my legs tightly around him, bringing him deliciously deep.

Christian inclines his face lower to kiss me – my forehead, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, my chin, and finally, my lips. He then dips lower to my jaw and down my neck, kissing me reverentially. His teeth bite down and pull on my earlobe as he fills me again.

I arch against his body again in response.

"Christian," I moan breathlessly. My fingernails scrape against his skin, as they try to find traction. He groans into my neck in response.

I soon feel myself making the climb onward and upward, building to my sweet release.

"Harder, Christian," I gasp, and he responds immediately, thrusting into me with more force while keeping the steady rhythm. "Oh, yes," I moan in appreciation.

Just a few more thrusts and I start tensing beneath him, my legs shaking.

"Give it to me, baby," Christian whisper gently, pushing me over the edge. I fall hard as my muscles contract and clench around him.

With one final thrust, he comes with my name on his lips, stilling inside of me.

He completely collapses onto me, taking his weight off of his arms, so I'm pressed further into the bed. Wow. He's heavy, but I don't complain – it makes me feel closer to him. Though, I doubt I could ever get close enough to him to satisfy me.

As our breathing slows, he pulls out of me, my body once again missing his presence immediately.

Christian rolls us onto our sides, but stays snuggled into me. I wrap my right arm protectively around him while the other cradles the back of his head which is resting on my right shoulder. I put my left leg over him, pulling him closer. His eyes are closed while he clutches me to him. We're a tangle of limbs and sheets as we bask in the joy of our sweet, lovemaking.

We lay like that for a long time. I glance over his shoulder at the clock. 4:27. I wish I could stay like this for the rest of the day. In fact, I very briefly consider canceling on Kate, but dismiss that thought immediately. I might as well get it over with. Plus, she's my best friend, and I've missed her terribly.

Interrupting our intimate silence, I whisper conspiratorially into Christian's ear, "Guess what?"

I can feel his grin against my neck. "What?" he whispers back.

"I like naked Saturdays."

"Me too," he answers as he traces his feather-like fingertips down my spine.

I yawn loudly as I stretch out, loosening my now stiff muscles. "But unfortunately, it's time to wrap it up," I announce sadly. Christian pulls his face back to reveal his full-on pout. _Ooh…_

I skim my finger down his face. "Don't pout." I disentangle myself and slowly sit upright. "Come on," I say, swatting his backside. "You can help me blow out all these candles.

I totter over to the dresser and pull out the third set of matching underwear for today. _Jeez, how many pairs am I going to wear today?_

I pick the lacey purple ones, and explore the closet for what to wear as Christian finally rises from bed as well.

_It's just a few hours with Kate. _I end up pulling on a pair of jeans and a purple blouse that matches my underwear. It's an expensive, designer outfit with the price tag to prove it, but it's still simple. I examine myself in the mirror. I like it. I'm still wearing the makeup from the visit to Grey House, so I saunter into the bathroom, while Christian follows my example in the closet. I quickly wash face, and reapply some much subtler makeup. I take the pig tails down and shake my hair out. It's still wavier than normal from the curling iron this morning, so it flares out dramatically. That'll do.

When I walk back into the bedroom, Christian is dressed and already blowing out the candles. I join him, and it doesn't take long before I feel slightly light-headed from all the blowing. We both follow the path back out, and between the two of us, all the candles are soon extinguished. The wax needs to cool and harden before we move them, so I go back to the kitchen to clean our mess up. I blush when I see my bra lying on the kitchen floor. I silently thank the heavens that Mrs. Jones isn't in here to see that.

Christian surprises me by insisting that he help with the clean up, so I wash the skillet and fryer while he rises and dries them.

After everything is put in its place, I grab the huge Yankee Candle bags from where I stashed them and we start gathering up all the candles, which doesn't take us as near as long as I thought it would.

With all of our chores done, I grab my phone and text Kate to see if she's ready for me to come over yet. While I wait for her to response, we lounge on the huge sofa in the great room, with me cuddled into his side.

Christian is absentmindedly playing with my hair, when out of the blue, he says, "You never did tell me…"

"Tell you what?" I asked, turning my face upward to look at him. He looks lost in thought.

"What you said to Flynn…" he clarifies, looking a little wary. _Uh oh. _I'm not sure if now's the time to bring something like this up. We're having such a good day, and the last thing I want to do is ruin his mood. I try for humor.

"Wow. I'm impressed. I figured for such an old, decrepit man, that you would forget all about that…" I tease.

"Hey. Just because I'm old and deaf doesn't mean I can't remember." He feigns a look of offense.

"Okay. My apologies, Mr. Grey."

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" he asks, cupping his hand to his ear in exaggeration. It makes me giggle.

He smiles and kisses my hair. "God, I love that sound," he sighs before turning back serious. He's waiting for my answer.

"You really want to know?" I whisper. He nods.

I take a deep breath. "I told him that part of me thinks that if you weren't like this…this broken, I mean, that you wouldn't want me," I confess, not meeting his gaze. After a beat, he still doesn't say anything, so I continue.

"He told me that it said more about me than it did about you."

Finally, I can't resist, and I peek up at him to see his expression. It surprises me. He doesn't look sad or upset. He looks confused.

"I can see why he would want to explore that further…Why do you feel that way, Ana?" he mutters, still looking confused, as if he can't comprehend the reasons.

"Because it doesn't make any sense for someone like you to love someone like me," I whisper, feeling the confusion that is clearly written across his face. This fact will always astound me.

"What do you mean 'someone like me'?"

"I mean someone who is passionate, driven, kind, loving, successful, sexy as hell, and to top it all off, richer than Croesus. I could keep going. The list is endless. You shouldn't want me, and the fact that you do just…" I trail off and go a different route. "Don't get me wrong. I don't doubt that you love me. I know you do, but the paranoid, insecure part of me can't help but think that the only reason you do is because of the fifty shades. It's sort of a rationalization of something that doesn't make any sense to me."

Christian continues to gape at me as if this is completely incomprehensible.

Finally, he shakes his head with a small smile.

"Ana, the way you regard yourself is ludicrous. And here I was quite satisfied with myself for thinking that I was helping you out of your insecurities – not feeding them like this…" he looks slightly helpless when he finishes.

"You accuse me of believing lies about myself when I could say the exact same thing about you."

I give him a dubious look. I have a feeling that we're getting nowhere with this. Suddenly, he's crushing me to his chest and nuzzling my hair.

"Oh, you silly, beautiful girl. Why can't you see how desirable you are? – In every way? I wish I could somehow eradicate these feelings. It's wrong for you to feel like this. It's so beyond backwards."

I crane my neck to give him a questioning look.

"Don't you see? The fact that _you _love _me_ is what doesn't make sense. Someone so innocent, sweet, smart, caring, selfless to a fault, and to top it all off," he says, mimicking my words. "Absolutely gorgeous, shouldn't love someone as fucked up and dark as I am." I glare at him as he says the last words. He knows how I hate that word when he's talking about himself.

He sighs. "You told me, right here, last night that you would spend the rest of your life trying to get me to see myself that way you do. Well, I guess I'm just going to have to do the same thing, because I don't know any other way to make you see this clearly, Ana."

"I guess we'll both grow old together with the same mission then," I whisper, touching his face. He smiles at the phrase 'grow old together'.

My phone buzzes, interrupting us. I pull it out. It's a text from Kate.

"Kate's ready for me to come over," I announce rather glumly. I hate having to be away from him, except at work.

"Okay. Hold on," he rises abruptly and strides out of the room. When he returns, Taylor follows behind him. I get to my feet to tell Christian 'bye' as Taylor goes to wait beside the elevator. I hug him around the waist, resting my head on his chest right over his beating heart. I can hear the steady rhythm under my ear – it's comforting and warming.

_See? You do have a heart – a huge heart full of love._

"I'll be back in a few hours," I mutter against him. He kisses my hair before we release each other.

"Try not to drink too much. We have a busy day tomorrow, and I wouldn't want you to be nursing a hangover," he reminds, looking sternly.

"Yes, sir," I say, blinking innocently at him. His expression softens.

I turn to leave. As I reach the great room doors, he says, "And one more thing…" I turn expectantly at him.

"What?" I ask.

"Have fun," he smiles sweetly at me. Whoa. I don't think he's ever said that to me. I beam back at him and join Taylor at the elevator.

I take a deep breath as I step in. Time to endure the Katherine Cavanaugh Inquisition. I have a feeling she's going to bed tonight knowing a lot more about my kinky fiancée…


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I think i need to start by telling all of you that this was possibly the hardest chapter to write...for the life of me, i couldn't figure out how exactly to play out the conversation between Kate and Ana about Christian's BDSM. Anyway, this is what ended up coming out of it...i hope i did it justice...lemme know wut you think! LOVE YOU GUYS!**

I walk through the door into the apartment. I can't help it when my eyes flicker towards the kitchen, half-expecting to see a gun-holding brunette. It's hard to believe that was only a few weeks ago. It feels like forever since then. Kate attacks me immediately, dispelling my disturbing memories.

"Ana!" she squeals, hugging me hard. "God, it's so good to see you, finally."

"Hi, Kate," I laugh, hugging her back.

When she releases me, she holds me at arm's length and looks at me up and down.

"Wow, Ana. The high life really suits you. You look good. Damn good." I flush. She looks amazing as usual – strawberry blond hair and black cotton summer dress.

"How you been?" she asks sincerely, eyeing me with speculation. I beam at her.

"Amazing," I answer her truthfully, feeling a wave of pre-marital joy fill me.

She looks satisfied and releases me.

"Hey, Steele!" Ethan exclaims, sauntering over to me. He grabs me in a classic-Ethan bear hug. He lets me go and asks, "So how are you and Mr. Mogul?"

I grin at the term. "Good. We're really good." I absentmindedly play with my ring.

Ethan claps his hands together. "Well, I won't keep you two from your ladies' night. I was just on my way out," he announces and grabs his leather jacket. "Have at it, girls." He pecks each of us on the cheek and he's gone.

"Ugh, I love my brother, but I can't wait for him to move out," Kate complains. I laugh as she loops her arm through mine and pulls me into the living room where we plop down on the couch together.

"I've missed you so much. After four years, it's so weird not having you around. Plus, the food kind of sucks," she whispers the last part, leaning closer to me. I snicker. "I've missed you, too. Gosh, who knew things could change this fast?" I say, disbelief colors my voice.

"I know," she exclaims. She looks up and down my body dramatically. "Little reserved Ana – who never so much as looked twice at a man! Then she up and gets engaged to a man after only knowing him a month! Talk about a one-eighty!" Kate flashes me a silly grin.

"I know. I know. I would've criticized someone for doing something like this, but there's no point in waiting, Kate. I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him. That's not going to change – so why wait?" I say, very seriously. Her eyes widen. She's never heard me speak this way.

"I know. I could tell the night he went missing how serious you both are."

"So have you picked out your bridesmaid dress yet?" I ask brightly, trying to derail her. I don't like where this going. I'm not ready for this discussion yet. It works, though.

"Yes," she gushes. "You want to see it?"

"Hell, yeah." She jumps up and disappears into her bedroom. I told her she could pick whatever she wanted to wear as my maid of honor. Her fashion sense is way better than mine, and I want her to wear what she wants to wear – not something I've picked out. She returns with a white gown bag.

She holds it up in front of me as she unzips it to reveal a beautiful, blush-colored gown.

"Wow, Kate. It's beautiful. You're going to look amazing in it," I compliment.

She zips it back up and drapes it over the arm of the chaise lounge before she joins me again on the couch.

"I can't wait to see your dress tomorrow!" she says exclaims. I nearly combust with excitement. Thankfully, Kate and Ethan's mom is a designer and she insisted that she create my wedding dress. I love Mrs. Kavanaugh and I will be eternally grateful to her for doing this. She came down the week after we got engaged and we went over tons of pictures and designs before she finally made a sketch of exactly what I wanted. After she took all of my measurements, she started work on it, and she's returning tomorrow with the finished product so she can make sure it fits properly.

Everyone is meeting at Bellevue to go over the last wedding plans and have family dinner. Christian and I are also having our engagement pictures taken. They're not only for wedding purposes, but a few of them will be sold to the press in hopes it will satisfy them enough so the paparazzi will chill out. I'm actually surprised at how excited I am at this. I hate having my picture taken, but Christian and I have no pictures together except the ones at my graduation, Jose's art show, and his parents' masked charity event.

It'll be nice to have some real pictures I can frame. My thoughts flicker to the picture of me sleeping that Christian has on his desk. Maybe I should do the same thing. In fact, it would be nice to have something of him at work as well. However, I rarely catch him asleep, so that would be tricky.

Much of our conversation continues just like this. After a while, Kate breaks out the wine, hands me a glass, and we dive back into comfortable conversation. I didn't realize how much I've missed this. Christian has become the only person I'm ever around outside of the people I work with. I really don't have a problem with that, but I do miss the normal conversation about the trivial things. With Christian and me, it's always so deep and serious.

An hour later, I'm feeling a tad fuzzy and giddy due to the wine. Kate and I are giggling as she tells me a story about Elliot's drunken rendition of "Gimme More" by Britney Spears that he belted out in a karaoke bar in Barbados.

"Ah, Ana. He's so great. I've never met someone so – so _warm._ He's so much fun, and so sweet," Kate sighs fondly.

"You really like him, huh?" I ask over my wine glass.

"I'm definitely falling for him," she answers with another sip of wine.

"I know the feeling." I glance down at the glittering diamond on my left hand. Kate notices my gaze.

"So, how is engaged life?"

I look back up at her with a stupid grin on my face.

"It's great."

"Must be all that insatiable sex that I know you're getting," she teases. Jeez, I forgot how brazen Kate could be.

I turn crimson. The first silence in an hour settles in. Kate looks thoughtfully at me. _Uh oh._

"Okay, it's killing me. I know that it's none of my business, and I promised myself that I wouldn't accost you about it. But I can't take it anymore, Ana. You have to tell me what the hell that thing I found in Christian's jacket was," she says in a rush, as if she's been dying to say it since I walked in the door – which is probably the case.

I sigh and look down at my wine. What do I do? Should I tell her? Should I tell her to butt out?

"Come on, Ana. You know that whatever you tell me won't leave this room…" she trails off, encouraging me.

I look up at her and blow out a huge breath. This is it.

"If I explain it, you have to promise that you won't judge," I begin slowly. I suddenly feel defensive. I don't want her thinking any less of Christian.

She looks a little surprised. I don't know if it's because of what I just said, or because I caved so easily.

"I promise," she says immediately.

"Okay."

My heart has picked up a faster pace and my hands are sweating slightly.

_Where the fuck do I begin? Christian wanted to make me his personal sex slave? Jeez, there's no way to put this nicely._

"Well…," I trail off. "When Christian and I first met, he wanted a very different relationship…," I start. _There, that sounds okay._

Kate regards me seriously. "What do you mean 'different'?"

I look down at my hands. I don't know why I'm embarrassed.

"A BDSM relationship," I clarify, daring to peak up at her. Kate's mouth drops open. She says nothing – just gapes. Wow. Kate speechless – this is a first.

"I know this is going to sound bad, but in all honesty, Christian only wanted me for sex."

Still, she says nothing. So I go on.

"For the past several years, Christian has been a dominant…" I trail off, again, not knowing how the hell to explain this.

"What does that mean? I know vaguely what BDSM entails, but what exactly are you saying?" Kate finally speaks up. Her shocked expression has melted away into her 'I-won't-settle-for-anything-less-than-the-truth' journalist stare.

"In this type of situation, there's a dominant and submissive. As a dominant, Christian would completely control the submissive. He would have a signed agreement, including an NDA, from a woman who agreed to enter into this BDSM relationship. They would stay from Friday night until Sunday. He has what he calls the 'playroom', with all kinds of kinky things that you can't even imagine. There are all kinds of rules that were in this agreement that they would have to obey, and if they broke one, he would punish them…" my voice falters. This is what's going to sound bad. Obviously, I'm not going to tell her why…

"Punish them?" she asks immediately.

"Yes. Punish them – usually in a sexual way. You, know – whips and paddles and shit." I flush. _Oh man._

"Holy fuck," Kate says, surprised. "That explains what I saw in that email. I saw stuff about sleep, food, clothes, and exercise, but I didn't know what the hell it was about." "What else?" she asks intrigued.

"Well, none of them were allowed to call him 'Christian'. They had to address him as 'Mr. Grey' or 'Sir'," as I say this, my mind flickers to the last time I was here. Leila had referred to him as 'Master'. I briefly wonder if that's what she called him all the time. Wow. I thought 'Sir' was much…I shake this off and keep going. "As for the rest, you saw most of it in that email."

"And he wanted you to do all of this?" she demands, indignantly.

"At first, yes, but it turned into something else for both of us. He still wanted me to be his submissive, but he wanted me for more as well. It was going fine until…" I stop. To my knowledge no one knows that I ever left Christian. Well, no one except Dr. Flynn and that Evil Bitch Troll.

"Until?"

I sigh.

"After I got back from Georgia, I sort of had a rude awakening which made me realize that I couldn't do it – that I couldn't give him what he wanted," I admit. "So, I left him." Kate's eyes widen again.

"Then what happened? What made you get back together?" she presses, leaning toward me with real interest. I'm a little surprised. Instead of sounding like a hard-pressed journalist, she sounds like a caring girlfriend.

"Well, my leaving him made him realize how important I was to him, and before we broke up, he had already agreed to take me to Jose's art show in Portland the next week. So, when he saw me again, he told me that he wanted to start again – this time with a real relationship. No rules. He left all of that behind for me," I say, with my voice dropping to just above a whisper.

We lapse into silence as she swallows all of this news.

"Wait!" she exclaims, putting her palms up as if she's directing traffic.

"Then who was that woman who broke in here with a gun?" she presses.

I gulp. I had forgotten that she knew about Leila.

"She was an ex-submissive who fell in love with Christian. She had a mental break after her boyfriend was killed in a car crash, and started stalking Christian. When she found out that we were together, she became interested in me as well – that's why she was in here, waiting for me. She kept saying 'What do you have that I don't'." Kate's eyes almost bug out of her head as I keep going. "She even somehow sneaked into his apartment while we were there and completely defaced the A3 that he gave me."

"Why would she do that?" she asks.

I flush. "Because he bought all of his submissives one."

Her eyebrows shoot up, but she says nothing. "Where is she now?"

"As far as I know, she's in New England somewhere with her family under the care of a physiatrist." I shrug.

"Oh my God," she says simply.

"Yeah, I know," I say, taking a long gulp of wine.

"He must be something, Ana. Because, otherwise I can't see why you're still with him. All that shit would have sent me packing ages ago." _You don't know the half of it._

"He's amazing, Kate. I could never imagine leaving him for anything."

Kate cocks her head to the side, looking at me with satisfied fondness.

"So I _was _right," she says out of the blue, looking pleased with herself momentarily.

"Right about what?"

"I told you at the Heathman that I didn't trust him – that there was something about him…"

I laugh. "Yes, I guess you were right." She stays silent a minutes.

"Who would've guessed that behind that handsome, billionaire face was something so twisted," she says thoughtfully.

"Kate," I admonish, bristling. He's not twisted – he's just been hurt in a horrid way. But I can't explain that to her. "You said you wouldn't judge."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. This is all just so crazy. I guess it shouldn't surprise me though – what with all the controlling issues…"

She takes a sip of wine and I recognize the look on her face. It's her 'what-follow-up-questions-can-I-ask' look.

"What's become of all of that sexual deviant stuff? The playroom?" she finally decides on her question.

I blush just as red as the wine that I'm holding.

Kate gasps in dramatic surprise. "Anastasia Steele! Are you telling me that behind those big blue eyes there's a kinky sex kitten?" she laughs. I blush deeper.

"He got rid of all the serious shit – you know – the whips, canes, and pattles – but the rest…" I trail off, letting the implication hang in the air. Kate laughs.

"I wonder if Elliot would be into doing anything like that," she wonders out loud.

"Maybe you should ask him," I laugh.

"Oh really?"

"Mmm Hmm. It can be fun," I reluctantly admit with another blush.

"I might just do that then," she says with a giggle. "Don't worry – I won't divulge the source of my curiosity."

"Christian calls it our kinky fuckery," I add after a little deliberation.

"What?" she exclaims with a silly grin on her face. "Kinky fuckery?"

I nod, and she belts out another laugh. It's infectious.

"Wow, Ana. Just…Wow." As our laughter melts away she turns serious again.

"And just like that – it's gone? He just gave it up?" she asks, gently. I nod at her solemnly.

"He really loves you. I can see it."

I look down at my wine that I'm swishing around in the glass.

"Good thing, too. Cause if he didn't, I would be on my way to go kill him right now. No one tries to make a little sex toy of my best friend," she says matter-of-factly, with a playful wink. "Does he know you're telling me all of this?"

"Yes," I answer, a little offended. I wouldn't keep something like that from him.

"Bet he's not happy about that," she mutters.

"Not really," I sigh. "But he says he'll trust my judgment."

"Well, no worries. None of this will ever be repeated," she tells me sincerely, then makes a show of locking her lips and throwing the key away.

I laugh. "Thanks."

We soon lapse back into more normal conversation. I can't believe how much better I feel. I didn't realize how much I missed being able to confide into my best girlfriend. It almost feels as if a burden has been lifted off of me. I feel buoyant. Of course, there's plenty I can't tell her. About his birth mom, Mrs. Robinson, his sadist issues, Dr. Flynn…the list goes on, but these are things I wouldn't dare tell her – that really is none of her business. I wouldn't want anyone knowing these things. The BDSM secret is already a huge pill to swallow.

Before I know it, Ethan returns, interrupting our banter about the "Steele" crack that jackass made.

He joins us in the living room. I look at him with a knowing smile. _What the hell. Let's make him uncomfortable. It'll be payback for all the times he's done it to me. _

"So, Ethan, how's Mia?" I ask pleasantly.

He shifts in his seat.

"She's good," he mutters dismissively.

"Should I expect to see you at family dinner tomorrow?" I ask, keeping my tone conversational.

"Um, yeah, actually. She invited me." That surprises me. Maybe things are starting to heat up between them. I must remember to ask Mia about this tomorrow. "Plus, Mom's going to be there too," he adds hastily trying to make light of the piece of information.

I glance down at my watch. 9:39. I'm ready to go home to my man.

"Well, I better get going," I announce, making a move to stand.

"Don't leave on my account," Ethan says holding his hands up.

"I'm not. It's getting late, and Christian and I have a busy day tomorrow," say. They both stand to bid me farewell.

"Don't be a stranger, Steele," Ethan says as he crushes me in a constricting hug.

"I won't. Besides, I'll see you both tomorrow." I answer.

Kate walks me out. We're standing in the small lobby and she surprises me by grabbing me in a fierce hug.

"I've missed you, Ana. Don't let this much time go by before we see each other again," she whispers in my ear.

"I won't," I promise, hugging her hard.

She pulls back and holds me by the shoulders. "And thank you," she adds cryptically.

"For what?" I ask perplexed.

"For telling me all of that back there," she clarifies. "It was none of my business, but thank you for trusting me."

I smile fondly at her. She's bossy, nosy, and overbearing at times, but I love her to death. I grin even bigger when I realize that I could say close to the same thing about Christian. Though, Christian isn't nosy…

We say our goodbyes and I head to the Audi waiting out front. I flush, embarrassed. I feel bad for making Taylor wait out here all this time, but I know it would've been useless to argue for otherwise – Christian won't leave me unguarded. Taylor jumps out to open my door for me, and I briefly wonder what the hell he does to make the time pass by.

"Miss Steele," he nods, making me grimace. 'Miss Steele' is so formal. But then again, it's not like I run around calling him 'Jason' either – or Mrs. Jones 'Gail'…

I slide in the back seat and settle in.


	12. Chapter 12

Back at Escala, I walk through the apartment and head for Christian's study.

He's sitting at his computer, typing away when I walk in. He looks up and beams at me. _Oh my. Will I ever get used to this perfection?_ I doubt it.

I skip around his desk towards him, and he turns his chair so I can scoot into his lap and loop my arms around him.

"Hi," I murmur.

"Hi," he breathes back.

I lean in to kiss him chastely on the lips. But as soon as our lips make contact, the electric current resurfaces between us. It's like it's a spark that ignites my blood and flames my desires for this man. Apparently, Christian feels it too, because he groans low in his throat and deeps the kiss – his tongue invading my mouth.

My hands twist into his already ruffled hair as his arms tighten around me, bringing my body flush against his.

When we finally break apart, we're both gasping for air.

"Looks like someone missed me," I tease as I regain my equilibrium.

"I always miss you when you're not with me," he says, running his hand down my back.

"Me too."

"Did you have a good time?" he asks sincerely.

"Yes, I did, thank you," I tell him brightly.

"So…" he trails off, questioning. "Has Miss Kavanaugh been informed of the secret workings of Christian Grey?" he asks pleasantly.

"Yes, she has," I begin, a little reluctantly. He sighs.

"What did you tell her?"

"I just explained to her how we started, and what the whole BDSM relationship would have entailed. She obviously already had a lot of the puzzle pieces from that email, so all I had to do was put it together for her and fill in the blanks. I kept it to a minimum, though. I just gave her the general overview," I answer.

He looks vaguely amused as he asks, "What did she say?"

I laugh.

"Well, she was kind of speechless at first, but she took it a lot better than I thought she would."

He nods slowly.

"I think Eliot might be in for a surprise though," I snicker.

"Why?" he asks, alarmed.

"Don't worry – she's promised not to say a word to anyone, but let's just say I may have piqued her curiosity a little bit…" I clarify. Christian's expression turns amused as well.

"I guess his sex life could use some spicing up," he offers.

I laugh.

"Let me finish this email, and I'll be done."

"Okay," I say and give him another kiss before hopping up and meandering out of the room.

After arriving back into our bedroom, I rifle through the deep drawers for something to sleep in. My hands make contact with something silky, and I pull it out, not bothering to examine it. I take the black scraps of material, and head into the massive white bathroom. I strip down to my underwear, and pull up my hair.

Taking my time removing my makeup, I methodically wash my face and enjoy the rejuvenating feel of the warm water on my skin. I reach for my toothbrush, but stop. I think I'll get a snack before bed, so I decide to wait to brush my teeth.

I swiftly unhook my bra and let it fall down my shoulders before pulling on the black piece of silk I pulled out of the drawer. It's a silky, black night dress with barely-there straps and hits about mid-thigh. It feels like cascading water against my skin.

I grab the other piece to find that it's the matching knee-length robe. I slip it on, leaving it open, and take my hair back down.

Back in the bedroom, I throw the clothes into the hamper and decide to look for what to wear tomorrow.

In the huge walk-in closet, I finger through the hangers for a while. We're having the engagement pictures taken in the huge, grassy expanse of Grace and Carrick's water-front property. We'll be walking through the grass barefoot so it's going to be rather casual. I end up picking out a silky, one-shouldered black blouse and a flowy white cotton, knee-length skirt. I hold it up, examining it. _Perfect. _

I hang them both on the closet for tomorrow and glide out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. I pillage through the fridge for a few minutes and pull out the carton of strawberries. After cutting the tops off and gathering them into a bowl, I take my snack and settle in the TV room to burn time before bed.

I flip through the channels for a couple of minutes and leave it on a rerun of _The Golden Girls. _Some of my best memories as a little kid was snuggling up with my mom on the couch while we watched Blanch, Rose, Dorothy, and Sophia live out their golden years together. I smile nostalgically at the thought and sigh. I miss my mom. Since she and Ray divorced, I haven't been able to see her nearly as much as I would like. I feel better now that she has Bob. He seems like a good match for her hair-brained ways – someone to look after her.

I sit cross-legged on the comfy sofa and start on the delicious strawberries. A few minutes later, Christian walks in.

"There you are," he says as he lowers himself beside me on the couch.

"Here I am," I answer brightly with a sweet grin and take a bite of another strawberry. Christian regards me intently while I chew. I fight the urge to flush. I've never really cared for people staring at me while I eat. Instead I glance back at the TV screen and finish my strawberry. When I swallow, I turn back to Christian and hold another one up to him.

"Want one?" I ask politely.

He says nothing but just opens his mouth wide in response. _Oh, I get to feed him? _I put the strawberry between his lips and he slowly bites down, holding my gaze. My fingertips make contact with his mouth as he closes his teeth around the red fruit. I pull in an unsteady breath as the registers below my waist. _Why does this look so hot? _

I pull my fingers away as Christian keeps looking at me with darkening grey eyes. I quickly take a bite of another one and offer him the next one as I'm still chewing. We repeat this process a couple of times until an idea occurs to me. I smirk up at him before taking half of a strawberry between my teeth and raise my mouth to his – offering him the other half.

He smiles wickedly before slowly leaning his face down to mine. He stares at me as his teeth sink into the juicy fruit at the same time that mine do. Our lips brush each others' as we share the strawberry. I pull back and finish chewing while I keep my eyes focused on his.

"Delicious," he whispers, eyes full of dancing humor.

I place another strawberry half-way in my mouth as I smile around it and offer it to him once again.

When he closes in on me this time, he cradles the side of my face with his hand and tilts his head to the side as if we're about to kiss. Very slowly, he again opens his mouth and closes it around the piece of red fruit protruding from my lips. He keeps our faces close together as we chew. As soon as we both swallow, he puts his mouth on mine. Our fruity tongues tangling together. The taste of strawberries is potent in both of our mouths.

As my heart picks up speed, I absentmindedly move the carton of strawberries on the other side of me before moving out of my cross-legged position. Shifting up on my knees, I swing one knee to the other side of his hips, straddling him.

His arms encircle my waist as I wrap my arms securely around his neck.

One of his hands travel up the side of my waist, gliding effortlessly over the thin silk. His strong fingers soon make their way further up, splaying out and fondling my breast. My nipple strains against flimsy material as he teases it. He gives a firm squeeze with his whole hand, making me moan into his mouth. We break apart momentarily, gasping, to catch our breath. Christian's eyes slowly rake down my body as he caresses along my sides.

"I love this material against your skin, Anastasia," he mutters appreciatively.

Suddenly, I can feel his pocket vibrating. He frowns and shifts to he can reach in and pull out his Blackberry.

"Grey," he snaps.

I sigh and try to move off his lap, but he holds me in place and shakes his head.

"It's okay. I'm going to go put the strawberries up. I'll be waiting for you in bed," I whisper while he listens to whatever the person on the other end is saying.

He nods and releases me.

I slide off of his lap, grab the strawberries, and pad barefoot into the kitchen. I put the strawberries back into the fridge and head for our bathroom to brush my teeth.

When that's finished, I slip off the robe and climb into bed. I flop onto my stomach and hug my pillow to wait for Christian. The muted moonlight casts eerie shadows across the room, giving it a haunted appearance. My eyelids are starting to get heavy when I hear the tell-tale click of the door and see his broad shadow being cast across the floor.

I see his shadow strip off his shirt and jeans before disappearing. I hear the drawer open and close just before Christian slides into bed behind me, the mattress dipping low in response to his weight. I'm still on my front so I turn my face over the other way to look at him.

"Sorry about that," he whispers as the soft gray light bounces off his beautiful face.

"It's okay," I whisper back.

"Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" he asks just as he runs his hand up my spine.

I blink awake as the too-bright morning sunrise fills the room. I glance up to see Christian studying me thoughtfully. My head is on his chest, resting right over his heart_. _My left arm is resting over his stomach and my left leg is tangled with his.

I let out a huge yawn and look sleepily back at him. He grins a heart-stoppingly beautiful smile as his fingers caress up and down my back.

"Good morning, sunshine," he says silkily.

"Hmm. Good morning, starshine," I respond, making his grin even bigger. My heart almost bursts looking at him.

_Gosh, will I ever get used to this man?_

"Ready to start our day?" he asks, nuzzling my hair.

"Hmm."

"Is that a 'no'?" he asks, amused.

"Hmm."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"Hmm."

"You're not much of a morning person are you?" he asks as he raises his eyebrow.

"Nahh uhhh," I drawl, shaking my head against his chest.

"Well, I wish we could lounge in bed all day, too, but we have to get moving if we're going to be at my parents' house by nine," he announces.

I glance over him at the alarm clock. It's 7:33 _Shit. _I must've slept through the alarm. I jolt upright and quickly slide out of the bed.

Two minutes later, I'm standing under the hot spray of the shower.

When I finish, I wrap the fluffy towel around myself and leave the shower to Christian. We would have showered together, but then we probably would have never got ready in time…

I dress quickly and efficiently. I'm almost done drying my hair when Christian walks out in a towel. My mouth dries as I ogle him in the mirror. His damp skin glistens faintly and his wet hair is sticking in every direction.

Topping it all off, is the stupid grin he flashes when he catches me gaping at him in all his half-naked glory.

I can't help the blush that creeps over my skin as I look away. The reaction is irrational. I know. I have done all manner of kinky fuckery with this man who is about to be my husband. I shouldn't be embarrassed for checking him out!

He disappears into the closet, and I finish drying my hair. I don't bother doing anything else to my hair or face – Grace has arranged someone to take of both before the photo shoot today. I've never had someone primp me up before, so that'll be interesting. With

Christian still in the closet, I make my way into the kitchen to start on our breakfast. I decide on scrambled eggs and bacon since we're a little crunch for time. I shuffle my iPod and set to work. I'm just pouring the whisked eggs into the skillet when he saunters in, looking downright edible as usual.

We say nothing as I methodically prepare our meal, and he puts our the place settings.

I soon serve our breakfast, and we make easy conversation as we scarf it down. It's simple but really good.

I glance at the clock just as we finish. 8:24.

Hurrying, I rinse and put everything on the dishwasher.

"Let me brush my teeth, and I'll be ready to go," I tell Christian who heads for Taylor's office.

Once my pearly whites are nice and clean, I grab a pair of black, designer flip flops. They're leather and feel like walking on air.

When I emerge, Christian is waiting for me in the great room.

"Ready?" he asks, extending his hand.

"Ready," I confirm, putting my hand in his.

In the R8, I glance over at Christian as something dawns on me. I look back down at myself then back over at him and let out a small laugh.

"Something amusing, Miss Steele?" he asks with a small smile.

"Yes," I answer.

"Care to share?"

"I just realized that we're matching," I laugh again.

Christian glances over at me then back down at himself as I just did and grins.

"It would seem so," he says.

He's wearing a pair of black slacks and his normal white button down which is casually rolled up to his elbows with the first two buttons undone. We're both wearing white and black. I didn't even take this into consideration when picking my outfit out last night. I smile with satisfaction. It'll be great for the pictures.

At five minutes till nine, we're both walking hand in hand into the Grey's mansion.

"Hi, sweetheart," Grace says warmly as she pecks Christian on the cheek.

"Oh, Ana, you look lovely," she says in the same tone as she turns to hug me.

"Thank you," I mutter, flushing a little.

Mia isn't far behind.

"Oh my gosh! You two look perfect! You're even matching," she exclaims, clapping her hands together like a small child. I can't help but grin at her exuberance.

She engulfs Christian in a huge hug before doing the same with me, all but cutting off my air supply.

When she releases me, she grabs my hand, still talking ninety miles an hour.

"Oh, I can't wait to see your wedding dress on you today," she gushes. "And I can't wait to see how your engagement pictures turn out…"

I smile and nod at the needed intervals as she keeps going. She doesn't need any input from me to keep her talking.

We're soon hauled into the large family room where Carrick sits, watching CNN.

He looks up and smiles at us.

"There's the happy couple," he says proudly, rising to hug us both.

Soon, the five of us are settled in.

Christian is sitting beside his father, wrapped in their own conversation, while Grace and Mia sit on either side of me discussing what needs to be gone over and decided today for the wedding. Most of the final decisions and arrangements will be made today. I once again thank both of them fervently for doing all this work. I don't know what I'd do without them.

"Don't mention it. I live for this kind of stuff," Mia chirps.

"She's right. I wouldn't have it any other way. I was beginning to think I would never get the privilege of seeing my son get married. You have no idea how much this means to me," Grace adds softly, touching my arm.

We've lapsed back into animated conversation when Kate and Eliot bustle into the room, followed by Ethan. I witness Mia's eyes light up like a Christmas tress when she spots him. When they make eye contact, I see Ethan turn a little pink. _Whoa! What is it with these Grey kids? _All three of them seem to be affecting us in ways I never thought possible.

We all rise to greet the new comers.

Eliot's the first to get to me.

"S'up, babe?" he exclaims loudly, engulfing me in his hulking arms.

'"Hi, Eliot," I laugh. He's almost as exuberant as his little sister. It seems that Christian is the odd ball here. Well, not all of the time. He has a playful side too– one that I love.

"Hi," Kate chirps brightly as she grabs me too.

Ethan gives me a quick squeeze. Christian is standing beside me as he greets his brother. When he turns to Kate, she gives him a subtle but very knowing look as they greet each.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Christian. Sitting back down, we all settle back into our own little conversations.

We girls are all discussing flowers when the door bell rings. Grace hops up to answer it.

When she reenters the room, two people are tailing her – a tall, raven-haired woman, and a snappy dressed blond man, who appears to be gay.

The tall, curvaceous woman who is carrying a large bag over her shoulder, steps forward first.

"Ana, this is Marion. She's the stylist who will be doing your hair and makeup," Grace announces as she introduces us. I quickly stand to shake Marion's outstretched hand before Grace introduces me to the two men.

She gestures to the blond guy wearing powder blue.

"This is Jacob – the photographer. You'll love him. He works magic with a camera." Grace smiles fondly at him as I greet him as well.

"So this is our blushing bride! Oh, honey, don't worry – you are in good hands today.

We're going to have a blast and I'm going to make sure you walk away with pictures to die for," he says enthusiastically. Hearing him speak confirms the gay theory.

Christian has come to stand behind me, and Jacob turns his enthusiasm to him.

"And the lucky groom, of course. Ooh! You two are going to be a dream to photograph! Such a lovely couple!" he gushes.

"Alright, Ana. Ready?" Grace asks with her hand extended. I nod with a blush as I take her hand. I'm not used to all this attention. She leads me upstairs into the huge master bathroom where Marion proceeds to lay out the contents of her large bag onto the counter.

"I'll leave you to it," Grace says as she shuts the door behind her.

_Okay, this is awkward._

I have the obligation to somehow make polite conversation, but have no idea what to say. Thankfully, Marion does it for me. She's clearly used to this kind of thing.

"So, when's the wedding date?" she asks pleasantly as she continues to pull out her tools.

"July 30," I answer.

"Excited?" She turns to give me a grin.

"Very," I nod and flush.

"I remember when I married my husband. I had the _worst _wedding jitters. I've never experienced nerves like that, but once I got up there, I was perfectly fine," she says with a whimsical smile on her glossed lips.

Before I have a chance to comment, she finishes her task and directs me to sit in the vanity chair. She stands behind me as we both face the mirror.

She runs her manicured fingers through my hair.

"So, how would you like to look today?"

"Um, nothing too dramatic. I usually keep it to a minimum, and we're going for a more relaxed, casual look anyway," I answer.

"Okay. I'll keep the makeup light, and how about I give you some simple, wide curls?"

"That sounds perfect." I give her a genuine smile. I really like her. She seems very genuine.

She plugs up the curling iron. It looks a lot like the one I just used yesterday.

While it warms up, she starts on my face.

She has me slide a stretchy headband to protect my hairline, and she sets to work. I close my eyes and leave her to it. She has a quick, feather-light touch as she applies the makeup. It's only a matter of minutes before she slips the headband from my head and says, "Alright, what do you think?"

I blink my eyes open and stare into the mirror. _Whoa. This woman knows what the hell she's doing._

In just the short time she's been working on me, she's giving me a simple yet very detailed, alluring look. My eyes are subtly lined and have a light, champagne colored smoky eye shadow surrounding them.

My skin is creamy alabaster and the slightest of pink blush tints my cheeks.

"One more thing," she announces and grabs a skinny tube. She unscrews it and holds up a pink covered applicator to my lips. I part them to give her easier access and she coats my lips with a pale pink color.

"This is a lip-stain, so it won't smear. Don't want to give your fiancée pink lips if you kiss him," she says with a knowing grin. I can't help my answering smile.

Taking one of the bottles from the counter, she sprays some form of product in my hair and spreads it with her fingers. Whatever it is, it smells good. She efficiently parts my hair and starts with the curls. Again, I close my eyes, and enjoy the primping. With one last pull of my hair, she announces that I'm finished.

I open my eyes to a dark-haired beauty staring back at me. Marion has done an amazing job. My hair hangs perfectly over my shoulders in neat, wide curls that look like they could be natural.

"Well, what do you think?" she asks, nervously.

"I absolutely love it – all of it." I grin at her. She smiles in pleased relief. I make a mental note to ask Grace if she can get Marion to do my hair and makeup on the wedding day.

"Good. Oh, and here," she says, remembering something. She grabs a can of hairspray off the counter and very gingerly puts a thin coat over my hair to preserve them.

I hug Marion and thank her, and we both make our way back downstairs.


	13. Chapter 13

Grace is talking with Jacob when we emerge.

"Honey, you look gorgeous," she says when she sees me. Jacob agrees whole-heartedly.

Seeing me, Christian rises from his spot on the couch and meanders over to me. He obviously doesn't need any hair and makeup help. He's already walking perfection.

He wraps an arm around me and kisses my forehead.

"You look beautiful," he breaths.

"Thank you," I mutter back, shyly.

"Ready to go capture some memories?" he asks.

I nod at him, grinning.

Jacob claps his hands together.

"Alright. Let's get this show on the road," he says brightly.

He already has the huge camera hanging around his neck. Since we're going to be walking around outside, there's no need for anything else. Simple – how I like it.

Thankfully, the forecast has proved to be correct. It's a lovely day. There's a warm breeze and muted sunlight streams down with the perfect amount of cloud cover so that we're not blinded.

Once out of the view of the house, Jacob starts a rapid shutter. He takes pictures of everything. Us walking, holding hands, arm in arm…Finally he gets us to where he wants and starts directing us – telling us to do this or that; put my hand here; look there; smile up at Christian; smile at the camera. We continue like that for a good while.

"Alright. Let's see a kiss," Jacob exclaim, raising his camera to his eye in anticipation. I grin as Christian leans down to kiss me lightly on the lips.

"Ooh! That was perfect. Do it again, This time, Ana, put your hand against his cheek. Ya know, be sweet."

I do as I'm told and we repeat the process, followed by much praise from Jacob.

"Okay, Christian. Lift your bride in your arms while you kiss her this time."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at our exuberant photographer. He says every request like it's the greatest thing in the world.

I wrap my arms around Christian's neck and he encircles my waist with his arms. He leans and hoists me upwards, with me still against his body. I bend one knee and bring my calf up to a 90 degree angle. My head is now above Christian's, so I have to angel my face downward to kiss him.

The camera shutters several times as Jacob moves to get different angles.

"Okay, keep her like that. Ana, you look at me and Christian, look up at her." We do as were directed and again the camera goes into rapid shutter.

"Now just look at each other."

I grin as I look back down at Christian who mirrors my expression.

After a few more moments, Jacob gets his shots and tells Christian he can put me back down.

"Alright. You two can take a little break. I need to flip through some of these to see what else we could use some more of," Jacob says, looking down at the large camera.

Christian and I wander several lazy steps away, hand in hand.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks, peering over at me.

I smile genuinely. "I am actually," I tell him.

"You sound surprised," he notes.

"Well, I'm not exactly keen on being in front of the camera," I point out.

He chuckles.

"I've never really cared for doing photo shoots either. – not exactly keen on people ordering me around, you know." He says in a teasing tone.

I giggle.

He sighs and pulls me to him.

"That's the most beautiful sound in my world," he murmurs. I smile shyly back up at him. One arm snakes around my waist, securing my body to his while the other reaches up to stroke my face with his fingertips. I rest one hand on the bicep of the arm holding me and press the other one straight over his heart. He puts his hand over mine and leans his face down closer to mine.

"I can't wait to marry you, Anastasia," he whispers.

"Me either," I answer.

He smiles that heart-stopping smile as he removes his hand from over mine to bring it up to my chin.

"Stop biting your lip," he says gently, giving it a gentle tug and making me release my bottom teeth from between my teeth.

Using the fingers already there, he tilts my chin so my face rises to meet his. He kisses me with tender love. My hand moves from his heart to lightly grasp the wrist that is under my chin.

When he pulls back, his eyes are full of adoration. Everything inside of me melts. What did I do to deserve this man? – not to mention the unadulterated passion that he loves me with? Because that's what it is – straight, unconditional love. I can feel it. I feel it when he looks at me, when he kisses me, when he touches me, when he holds me…all of the time. Even when we argue, I still know he loves me.

As I simply gaze into those wide, gray eyes of this man who I love more than life itself, I feel a surge of sweet joy sweep through me. I couldn't imagine my life without him now. He's everything to me.

"Alright. Let's try going to the dock," Jacob suddenly announces, startling me out of my reveries and interrupting our moment.

A half hour later, we've taken a plethora more pictures down by the water.

"I think we have all the winning shots," Jacob says, looking down at his camera.

I breathe a sigh of relief. We've been at this for well over an hour. It's getting exhausting.

We make our way back to the house where Jacob uploads the pictures to his laptop and puts them all on a flashdrive.

"Here you go. Go through them tonight and pick out which ones you want and we'll get the order placed."

Christian takes the flashdrive from him and we both thank him as he packs up and bounces out.

"Ooh. How did it go?" Mia asks happily from her spot on the couch next to Ethan.

"Good," Christian and I answer at the same time. Mia tosses her head back in laughter.

"Oh, this couldn't get anymore perfect. You're still saying the same things," she gushes.

I flush and join Grace and Kate.

We're talking about the mystery destination that Christian is carrying me to for the honeymoon. He apparently hasn't let anything slip because both Kate and Grace are mystified as well. Suddenly, Kate's phone rings.

"Sorry," she mutters as she answers.

Immediately her face lights up.

"Okay. That's great. I'll tell her," she says. "Okay. See you in a bit. Bye"

She ends the call and grins at me.

"That was my mom. She's going to be here with your dress in a few minutes."

"Oh, that's great," Grace comments. I simply grin happily.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, the door bell rings again and Grace glides out to answer it. Moments later, Mrs. Kavanaugh saunters in carrying a large white gown bag. _There it is!_

My heart speeds up with excitement. Kate and Ethan immediately jump up to greet their mom. I follow behind.

"Mrs. Kavanaugh," I say fondly as I hug her.

"What have I told you about that? Please, call me Brenda," she corrects hugging me back with her free arm.

Eliot walks up from behind me.

"Hey, Mrs. K," he says loudly, hugging her with familiarity.

"Hi, Eliot," she says warmly and regards him with fondness. Well, it seems like he has family approval.

She turns her bright smile back to me. "Ready?"

I nod enthusiastically.

"This way," Grace says and gestures toward the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Christian staring at me with a smile. I turn and give him a quick wink.

"Wait for me!" Mia exclaims, jumping up from beside Ethan.

Grace leads all of us ladies into her huge master bedroom. Once inside, she makes sure to lock the door with a smirk. Wouldn't anyone trying to catch a peak.

She quickly retrieves and folds out a huge three-sided mirror – the ones in the middle of dressing rooms that show everything.

"Alright, Ana. Are you ready to see your wedding dress?" Brenda asks, grasping the zipper of the bag.

"Most definitely."

With one swoop, she unzips the bag and with one more graceful move, pushes it off of the hanger.

My breath catches. _Wow. She did this in that short of time?_

The ivory lace and satin dress is beautiful. It's exactly what I wanted.

"Well?" Brenda asks softly.

I beam at her. "It's gorgeous. I can't believe you pulled this off so quickly."

"It's been my pleasure. Ready to try it on?"

I nod, speechless.

I go with her into the large bathroom where Marion did my hair and makeup earlier.

I quickly strip out of my outer clothes. I'm thankful that I made sure to wear a strapless bra for this.

Keeping me turned from the mirror, she helps me into the gown. I look down at it.

It fits like a glove, and the wide, lace straps hit just off of the shoulders.

It curves around my waist perfectly before flaring out just a little as the material reaches the skirt of the dress. Brenda makes quick work of the buttons in the back and adjusts everything.

"Alright. Come on," she says, covering my eyes so I don't catch a half-glimpse in the bathroom mirror. She uncovers my eyes when we cross the threshold. I hear three distinct gasps and all three women's mouths drop open. Mia squeals. Wow. That good?

I finally reach the front of the huge mirror that Grace set out.

My mouth drops open too. It's beyond beautiful and suits me perfectly.

I lightly run my hand down the exquisite material as tears spring into my eyes. _I'm really getting married! _That fact really hits home as I stare back at the bride standing in the mirror.

"Oh my God. It's gorgeous!" Mia says loudly from behind me.

Kate comes to stand beside me, beaming.

"You look beautiful, Ana," she says with real feeling.

I smile at her through my impending tears.

I turn to see Grace still standing to the side, crying freely.

"Oh, Grace. Don't cry," I say, moving towards.

Tears are streaming down her face as I embrace her.

I feel her choke back a sob as she hugs me back. "You look beautiful, Ana," she chokes in my ear.

When she releases me, she daintily wipes the tears from under eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so happy. I never though he would find someone," she blubbers.

We gush over the dress for a while longer before Mrs. Kavanaugh insists it needs to be put back in the bag. After all, I'll be wearing it for real in a couple of weeks.

Grace tucks the dress safely away in her closet until the big day arrives.

Back downstairs, I fervently thank Mrs. Kavanaugh who says her goodbyes and slips back out.

I sit down beside Christian, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

"Happy?" he asks.

I nod at him with a goofy grin plastered on my face.

We all sit and continue to visit with one another before Gretchen comes in, announcing that lunch is ready.

Afterwards, Christian, Kate, Eliot and I move out onto the deck, sipping wine. Amidst our easy conversation, Eliot brings up one of his best man duties.

"So, when do you want your bachelor party?" he asks with a mischievous grin. Christian frowns.

"I'd rather not have one," he begins, slowly.

"You _have _to have a bachelor party, man!" he exclaims. "These are your last single days. We have to at least go out for drinks. Besides, it's been forever since we went out together," Eliot argues.

"Alright we'll go out next week. But _just_ for a couple of drinks," he stresses.

"Whatever you say," Eliot answers fakely.

Suddenly, something occurs to me.

"Eliot," I say pleasantly, stepping closer to him.

"Hmm?" He politely turns his attention to me. I move until I'm right in front of him and put one hand on my hip.

"I know as the best man, the bachelor party is your job…" I stop to point my index finger at his face. "But if you so much as_ think_ about a stripper and/or strip club, and I find out about it…" I pause for a second, letting that hang in the air before I go on, "well, then Christian's gunna be missing his best man."

Eliot's mouth falls open. Kate chimes in a laugh, and Christian is on the other side of me, fighting a smile.

"Understand?" I ask when he doesn't respond,

"Yes, ma'am," he mutters, begrudgingly. I think I may have succeeded in squashing a very real idea. Still grinning, Kate looks at me.

"Well, what do you want to do for your bachelorette party?" she asks curiously.

"I figured instead of going out and partying, that you, Mia, and I could have a spa day – just us. You know – spend the day getting pampered."

"Ooh. That sounds perfect," Kate agrees.

The whole day flies by effortlessly. I go over the final decisions concerning the wedding with Grace and Mia, and before I know it, Christian and I are headed back out to the R8.


	14. Chapter 14

Back at home, I sluggishly totter into our bedroom to change into something comfortable. Of course, when I want something comfy, the first thing that comes to mind is one of Christian's t-shirts. So, I yank on one his cotton Hanes, as he exchanges his slacks and shirt for a pair of pajama pants.

He pulls me into his arms.

"Enjoy yourself today?" he breathes into my hair.

"Mhh hmm," I affirm with a small nod against his chest. The curly hair there tickles my cheek. His delicious scent radiates off of his soft skin. It's intoxicating – better than any cologne.

I turn my head and place a soft kiss over his heart, my hands resting on his hips. Christian nuzzles my hair as I move my lips over his chest.

I kiss one scar then another. His arms tighten around me as he sighs.

"Miss Steele, as much as I would love to take you to bed, we have some work to do," he says gruffly. I pull back to fix him with a confused stare.

He holds up the flashdrive by way of explanation. _Oh, the pictures..._

"We have to get this done tonight so Jacob can order the ones we want," he says.

"Okay," I answer, a little disappointed. He hasn't touched me all day, and I'm feeling a little impatient.

"Come," he says and takes my hand. When we get into the media room, he sits me on the couch.

I watch as he opens one of the drawers under the flat screen and sets out a cord that I don't recognize.

"Be right back," he mutters and disappears.

When he returns, he has his Mac under his arm. He sets it up and hooks the cord up first to the computer then to the TV.

He plugs in the flashdrive, hits a couple of buttons, and then changes the input on the TV. Instantly, Christian and I pop up on the screen. He grabs the Mac and places it on his lap as he sits down beside me.

Slowly, he starts clicking through each picture. We examine each one. He opens a few different folders – one for the 'no's; one for the 'maybe's; and one for the 'yes's.

We're keeping a digital copy of all of them, but we have to decide which ones we want for the wedding, which ones are going to be released to the press, and which ones we just want copies of for ourselves.

I have to give it to him – Jacob really can work magic with a camera. Every pose that he directed us into is perfect.

It's so hard not to just say 'yes' to all of them.

I grin when we come to the pose of Christian lifting me in his arms. My favorite is one with me looking at the camera with a small smile as Christian looks at me. Again – Jacob really knew what he was doing. That's a definite yes for wedding and the press. My grin gets wider as I think of all the jealous women who will be getting an eyeful of that in next month's tabloid magazines – or whatever they get published in.

My breath catches when Christian gets to the next pose. Except, this wasn't a directed pose.

It's of Christian and I having a moment to ourselves – when Jacob was supposedly just going through the camera. Christian has his arm around me, caressing my cheek while I have my hand over his heart.

"That sneaky little…" I trail off with a stupid grin on my face. I glance over at Christian who shrugs as his face lights up with a smile of his own. We both say yes to that one.

He slowly keeps going, and we find out that Jacob never stopped taking pictures at all.

I let out an exaggerated gasp of wonder when he comes to us kissing. Christian's fingers tenderly tipping my chin back as my hand curls around his upraised wrist. Some are from the distance where Jacob must have been standing, then others are zoomed in.

I turn to Christian. "I want that one blown up really big and hung somewhere," I tell him enthusiastically. We also agree to use that for the wedding but not the press – a little too intimate to end up on Google.

We go through all of them just like that. When we're done, we browse through the 'maybe' ones again and make a decision for all of those as well.

Along with all of our special orders, we decide to tell Jacob to just order a full photo album of all of them.

"We should get him to do the wedding pictures as well," I suggest as Christian closes his Mac. He agrees wholeheartedly.

"I'll call him tomorrow and set it up," he answers, unplugging everything.

He finishes putting everything away and turns to me with a familiar look in his gray eyes.

"So, Miss Steele, ready to go to bed?" he asks in a way that makes it obvious he isn't referring to sleep.

"Most definitely, Mr. Grey," I answer fervently. He holds his hand out to me as I stand. When I take it, he unexpectedly yanks me hard against him. I yelp in surprise.

"I had a wonderful day with you today, Ana," he says sweetly as he brushes a stray piece of hair away from my face.

"Me too," I whisper.

"I can't wait to spend everyday of the rest of my life with you."

Joy spreads like palpable warmth through me at his words. I smile shyly up at him. I watch as his eyes darken and he brings his fingers up to grasp my chin.

"I think it's my turn to bite that lip," he says as he tugs my lip free. It's amazing that I don't even realize I'm doing that half that time.

True to his words, Christian leans down and gently takes my lips between his teeth and sucks then pulls on the soft skin.

I moan softly in the back of my throat.

Releasing my lip, he moves his mouth to meet mine. He kisses me tenderly for a moment before the kiss deepens and our tongues meet each other. My hands find their usual place in his unruly hair as his hands grasp my backside, keeping me firmly secured to him.

Suddenly, breaking the kiss, he leans down and scoops me into his arms bridal style. It's so fast that I barely have time to react before his sweet lips are on mine again. Slowly, he starts walking toward our bedroom with me in his arms.

As he walks, he moves his lips from mine, down my jaw, to my neck. Planting soft kisses all along my jugular, he finally reaches the bedroom. He slowly leans down and places me lightly on my feet.

He captures my lips again as he wraps his arms around me and walks me backward.

When the back of my knees hit the bed, we fall together onto the mattress. The bed bounces from the impact, but Christian catches most of his weight on his elbow.

He moves his mouth from my lips and lightly grazes my earlobe with his teeth. I push my body upward into his and pull on his hair. He groans quietly as he turns his attention to my throat. He kisses downward until his lips meet the top of his t-shirt. Suddenly, he sits up between my legs, bending his knees and resting back on his heels.

My legs are on either side of his hips with my knees bent. With a the sexiest of smiles, he very slowly runs his hands down each leg. I tilt my head back and close my eyes, relishing his touch.

"You have gorgeous legs, Ana," he mutters appreciatively as he traces back up using only his fingertips.

I look back at him to find him staring lovingly at the skin beneath his expert fingers.

Glancing up at me, he moves his hands under my sides and drags me into a sitting position right in front of him. Without pausing, he deftly lifts my shirt off of me and tosses it behind him on the floor. He kisses me deeply for a long moment before gently pushing me back down on the bed.

Scooting back some more, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties and very slowly works them down my legs.

By now, I'm practically panting. It's been a full twenty-four hours and I'm aching for him.

When my panties have joined the shirt, he again runs his hands up my legs before leaning down and placing both of my knees over his shoulders. Agonizingly slow, he starts kissing down my inner left thigh. As he gets further north, he stops and starts again on the other leg.

"Christian, please," I gasp.

"Patience, baby," he croons. I can feel him smile against my skin.

Finally, he reaches his destination. Putting me out of my misery, he slowly lavishes his tongue at the apex of my thighs. I moan loudly as my body arches off the bed. He swirls his tongue and teases my clitoris.

"Still, baby," he commands, halting his sweet torture momentarily. He grasps my hips firmly as he continues.

Moving down, he firmly pushes his tongue just inside me.

"Christian," I moan loudly, my hands pulling on his hair.

"God, Ana, you taste so sweet," he murmurs against my sex, eliciting another strangled moan.

He moves his mouth up onto his belly, kissing up to my belly button. Reaching my navel, he sticks his tongue out and licks all the way between my breasts. He palms one while he gently sucks the other, taking my nipple between his teeth. I cry out and push my body impatiently against his.

"Christian, please," I beg again.

"What is it, Ana?" he asks softly against my breast.

"I want you," I moan.

"You have me," he answers.

"I want you to make love to me," I plead breathlessly.

Without answering, he shifts to the side and shuffles out his sweats. Discarding them, he rolls back onto me.

"Your wish, my command," he mutters, pushing my legs farther apart.

He positions himself between my thighs.

"Eyes open. I want to see you," he commands.

Holding himself on his elbows, he very slowly pushes into me. I have to fight the urge to screw my eyes shut with pleasure. Instead, my body pushes against him as I moan.

He leans his forehead against mine as he starts to move. Our gasps intermingle, and he moves his hand to gently cradle my face.

"Christian," I gasp as I move my hands to his shoulder blades, grasping the skin there.

"Oh, Ana," he groans, closing his eyes and bringing his lips down to mine.

His tongue invades my mouth as he thrusts into me again and again.

It doesn't take long until I feel that all-too familiar feeling as I climb higher.

I whimper into Christian's mouth as my legs start to tense around his hips.

"Come for me, baby," he order against my lips.

As always, his words work their magic. I shatter into a million pieces as I come, calling a garbled version of his name as my toes curl and I cling to him.

Christian follows suit with my name on his lips like a prayer.

We lay, still gasping, as we come down from our climaxes.

Finally, Christian pulls out of me, and rests his forehead against mine again.

"I love you, Ana," he whispers, breathlessly.

"I love you too, Christian," I answer.

He rolls off of me and crawls underneath the covers, pulling me along with him.

He wraps his arms around me as we spoon and kisses my hair. I let out a yawn.

"Sleep, baby," he whispers against the back of my head.


	15. Chapter 15

I lean further back into the posh leather seat of the R8 and enjoy the ride. Christian and I are headed to Montesano to spend today and tomorrow with my Dad. The past week has lulled by. Time seems to be creeping by at an agonizing rate as I anticipate the 30th – one week from today. I lean my head back and smile. Seven days from today, and I will officially be Mrs. Christian Grey. Undiluted bliss bubbles within me. Could life get any better?

"A penny for you thoughts, Miss Steele?" Christian inquires from the drivers' seat. I glance over at him with the stupid grin still plastered on my face. He looks amused as he takes in my expression before turning his eyes back to the road.

"One more week," I say by way of answer.

His face lights up like a summer dawn as his own silly grin splits his beautiful face. He glances at me again. My heart gives a squeeze. He looks so…happy.

Knowing that I'm the reason for this happiness makes my heart swell. _Oh, my man…_

I would do anything if I could keep him like this 24/7.

We sit in companionable silence as the miles pass us by.

"Ready to spend some quality time with my dad?" I ask rather nervously.

"Very much so," Christian answers without hesitation. "Plus, I can't wait to see where you grew up."

I smile in excitement. This is going to be fun. I fleetingly try to remember how I left my room the last time I was in there. Oh well. I guess we'll both find out when we get there.

Soon, we're on the last few miles.

"Turn here," I say and motion to the small paved road. In a few minutes, we're approaching the driveway.

"Right here," I announce as Christian pulls closer to the very familiar white, two story house.

Putting the R8 in park, we both unbuckle our seat belts. I take a deep breath as I open my door and climb out. My legs are a little stiff from sitting so long. I meet Christian at the front of the car. He grabs my hand.

"I'll get the bags later," he says and pulls me toward the porch. Walking up the three steps, we get to the door. Taking the lead, I turn the knob and let us in. The door swings open to the small foyer. I pause for a moment as I drink in the familiar sight. I haven't been here for almost a year, but it feels longer than that.

"Dad," I call as I lead Christian further into the house.

"Annie?" Ray calls from the living room around the corner.

"Does anyone else call you 'dad'?" I ask, teasing as he comes into view.

He laughs as he hops up from the couch.

"Good point," he says as he walks towards us.

I release Christian's hand as I reach up to hug Ray.

"Hey, sweetheart," Ray says affectionately, hugging me tightly.

"Hey, Ray," I say back.

When he releases me, Ray turns his gaze to Christian.

"Christian," Ray greets politely, extending his hand.

"Sir," Christian says respectfully as he takes Ray's hand.

"Well, come on, make yourself at home," Ray says, gesturing around him. Christian and I sit together on the love seat as Ray situates himself across from us in the lounge.

We simply make small talk for a while. I'm silently grateful for Christian. He keeps the conversation going effortlessly. I'm amazed. I've never seen anyone get my stepdad talking so freely. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised though.

Just when a lull in conversation creeps up, Christian looks at me.

"I guess I'll go get the bags," he says politely. I nod and he rises.

Ray looks up at him. "Need any help?"

"No, there are only a couple of light bags. I got it," Christian says, returning back out the door. When we're alone, Ray looks pointedly at me.

"Are you happy, Ana?" he asks gently.

I beam at him.

"I'm more than happy, Daddy," I whisper back sincerely.

Ray's eyes widen slightly as the emotion coming from me. He's not used to seeing this.

"Well, I guess that's all that matters," he says gruffly. "For all it's worth, it seems like you picked a good one."

I smile at him again. "I know I have," I tell him. "You're going to like him."

Ray nods, and we hear the door open as Christian comes back inside. I hop up as he rounds the corner with one bag on his shoulder and the other in his hand.

"Come on. I'll show where to put them," I announce.

"You two take your time getting settled in. Holler if you need anything," Ray says, settling back in to watch his soccer game.

Christian follows behind me as we pass the kitchen and head to the stairs.

I climb each one, feeling like a teenager again – bringing home the boyfriend to meet the parents.

When we top the staircase, I lead Christian down the hall to last door. I stop right before it. Turning to him, I pose dramatically in front of the door, holding my arms out on either side of me as if to block the doorway.

"Are you ready for this?" I ask even more dramatically. "To be the first boy to ever step foot in here?"

Christian smirks. "Yes."

I grin and nod before wheeling back around to the door. I grasp the knob and twist.

Walking a couple of steps in, I stop with my back against the door and gesture grandly with my hand.

"Welcome to my teenage sanctuary," I say.

Christian ambles in, taking everything in.

It's exactly how I remember it. Nothing's changed in here for years.

The white walls still have various framed pictures mostly of family hanging. On the opposite wall hangs a larger, framed Lord of the Rings posters. It's a map of Middle Earth. On the other wall hangs another poster of Snow Patrol.

In the corner, is a small desk with a black computer chair, and beside that, stands the bookshelf which is almost empty. I took most of the book with me when I moved out.

In the far part of the room, sits the double sized bed with the white and blue bed set still adorning it.

Christian quietly takes everything in as he slowly steps further into the room.

When he turns back to face me, he smiles. "It's so…" he trails off, looking for the right work. "You," he finishes.

I smile back at him.

He points at the Middle Earth poster. "Lord of the Rings?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I nod. "One of my favorites. Book and movie," I say.

He sets the bags down on the bed before moving to examine each picture that hangs on the wall. I turn my attention away from him and go to sit on the familiar bed.

"I love this picture," he mutters absentmindedly, pointing to the 8x10 that he's standing in front of, examining. I lean over to see which one he's talking about. It's one of my senior pictures in black and white. It's a close up of me, resting my chin on my hand and smiling to myself while my eyes are cutting to the side.

"It's one of the only pictures that I've ever actually liked of myself. That's why I hung it," I say quietly as he goes back to examining it.

A couple of minutes later, he comments on another one.

"Who is this?" he asks with a touch of suspicious in his voice. This time, I have to stand and move closer to see which one he's talking about. It's a picture of me and my cousin Todd. He has his arm around my shoulders as both of us are smiling goofily at the camera. Immediately, I understand why he's asking.

"Calm down. It's just my cousin," I mutter. "You're going to be meeting him next week, too," I add. I haven't seen Todd in well over a year. It'll be nice to catch up.

Christian finishes examining everything on the walls, and we both perch on the bed.

I smirk over at him.

"What?" he asks a little self-consciously.

"It's so weird having a boy in here. Especially you," I clarify.

He lets out his carefree, boyish laugh and runs his hand through his hair. He looks his age.

Turning around, he spies something on the pile of pillows. He reaches over and picks it up. When he brings it back around, I see what it is. It's a small black, stuffed dog.

Christian smirks up at me.

"That was my best friend growing up," I tell him honestly.

"Really?" Christian says, raising his eyebrows.

"Mhh hmm," I answer. "I got him when I was three. It's one of the only things I can remember from that far back. I remember cuddling up on the couch with Ray that night, deciding on what to name him." I smile nostalgically.

"Well? What did you pick out?" Christian asks, amused.

I laugh once. "My brilliant, three-year old self came up with 'Blackie'."

Christian chuckles. Of course, only a little kid would come up with something that obvious for an all _black _dog.

"Blackie," Christian murmurs to himself.

"For years, I wouldn't leave the house unless he went with me," I say. I have no idea why I'm offering all this information. I should be blushing right now at having a childhood toy discovered. "Even when I got older, I couldn't bring myself to get rid of him."

I briefly wonder if Christian ever had an animal or something of the sort that he was attached to. I keep the curiosity to myself though – I don't want to ruin the moment by bringing up something possibly unpleasant. I know his childhood is a hairy subject to bring up.

When he places the little dog back on the pillows, I stand up and grab his hand.

"Come on," I say brightly. There's something I want to show him.

Christian does as I ask and follows me. When we get to the bottom of the stairs, I call out to Ray who is still contentedly watching his soccer match.

"I'm going to show Christian your workshop."

"Okay," he calls back. "Watch your step in there."

I grin. I've been hearing that same statement my whole life every time I went into Ray's shop.

I lead Christian through the house and out the back door. The sunlight illuminates the green yard. As I look around, I realize how much I've missed this place.

With Christian in tow, I follow the path from the back door towards the big, wooden building. It's red and, from the outside, looks more like a barn than anything else. Reaching the huge door, I put my hand on the handle and look at Christian.

"This is where I spent most of my free time as kid – out here watching Ray work," I offer and I throw my weight to the side and drag the huge, sliding door open a few feet.

I leave the door open and step inside. The comforting smell of sawdust and wood polish hit my nose. I smile. Thousands of memories are attached to that smell.

The concrete floor is covered with sawdust.

Ray's worktables are all still in the same place. His saws and drills haven't moved much either. Several of his projects are resting around to the side. One catches my eye.

For some reason, it looks familiar, but I can't quite place it. It's an ornately designed wooden porch swing. I lightly run my hand over the polished wood, wiping away some sawdust residue. I trace the swirling pattern that's carved into the back of the seat.

Suddenly, it dawns on me where I've seen this before.

"Well, I guess you found it," Ray's gruff voice startles me. I whirl around to see him standing behind me a few paces away.

"It's grandma's swing," I say, fascinated.

"No. The original one's long gone, but I know how much you loved that swing in her rose garden as a kid. So, I tried to build a replica of it. You told me that you and Christian had bought a house, so I figured you could put it out there somewhere, maybe in a garden of your own. I figured it would make a good wedding gift," he says with a small shrug, looking a tad uncomfortable with the spill of sentimentality.

"Ray," I say, at a loss for words.

"It can stay here for as long as you need until you move in into the new place."

I walk over towards Ray, and put my arms around his neck.

"Thank you, Dad. It's beautiful," I say, my voice thick with emotion. When I release him, Ray's a little pink.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone," he says, turning. I smile.

When Ray, disappears back through the open door, I swivel around to see Christian quietly watching from a polite distance.

"Mind explaining?" he asks and gestures to the swing.

"When I was a kid, my grandmother had the most beautiful rose garden that she kept, and in the middle of it, sat a swing just like this one. I used to love going out there. I could just sit there for hours. It was so peaceful," I say, my voice dropping lower toward the end as I give the swing another look.

After a beat, I look back at Christian who is wandering around aimlessly.

"Ready to go?" I ask. He nods and takes my hand.

On our way back up the path I glance over at him.

"In a little while, I'll take you somewhere. I have something else I want to show you," I tell him. He looks over at me curiously.

"What is it?" he asks.

"You'll see. Just somewhere I used to love to go all the time."

With that, we mount the steps and go back inside where we join Ray.

We sit and talk with Ray for a couple of hours before I glance at the clock. It's getting pretty late in the afternoon. I plan on cooking dinner, so I need to run to the store.

I make a move to stand and two pair of eyes follow me. I explain what I'm doing and add, "And I want to take Christian to the lake."

Ray nods. "You know you don't have to cook, Annie," he says again.

"I know, but I want to. It's been too long since I've been able to cook for you," I tell him.

He smiles and nods again. When I make a turn to leave, I remember something.

"Ray, do you mind if we take the truck? It'll be easier going to the lake in it," I ask. I feel like I'm sixteen again – asking for the keys.

"Sure. You know where the keys are," he answers.

"Thanks. We'll be back soon," I say and lean over to peck him on the cheek.

Christian follows me out. By the front door, I swipe the keys from where they hang on a peg and head outside.

As we slide into Ray's pickup, Christian frowns. He hates it when I drive. I silently hope that he doesn't bitch about my driving this time.

I crank the ignition and back out.

I decide to get the groceries first – stop to sight see on our way back home.

Christian follows me dutifully through the store. I spend the entire time fighting a smile. Christian Grey walking through the supermarket is really a sight to see.

We set the few bags in the back seat, and I pull out of the parking lot.

In a few miles, I pull onto a gravel road. In a few minutes, I pull into the small parking area. I kill the engine and hop out. Christian follows my example and meets me at the front of the truck.

"Come on," I say, taking his hand and leading him to the small trail.

"Are we going on a hike?" Christian asks after a few minutes.

"No, it's right up here. Be patient," I answer, turning around to smile at his eager face.

I lead him on, watching my step and being careful not to trip over the ruts and roots. That would be just lovely – landing face first into the dirt.

As we walk, I explain where we're going a little bit.

"Ray comes out here to fish a lot. It's absolutely beautiful. It was one of my favorite places to come as a teenager. No one hardly comes out to this side of the lake, so it's always peaceful – great for reading."

Just then, the surrounding trees break, revealing the shining water as if to emphasize my words.

Without stopping, I continue to lead Christian down to the t-shaped dock. I pause to take in the scenery around me. I haven't been here in a couple of years, but it doesn't seem anything has changed.

"Well, I can see why you like this place. It's beautiful," Christian murmurs, also looking around himself.

The sunlight that escapes in between the gray clouds glints off the water in a mesmerizing way.

I turn to face Christian.

"You used to row back in Harvard right?" I ask. He looks at me as his brow comes together at my sudden question.

"Yes," he answers, slowly.

"Ready to utilize the practice?" I ask, taking a step towards the end of the dock.

His eyes dart to the canoe that's tied up there. Realization dawns on him, and his eyes light up.

"You want to go out on the water?" he asks.

"Well, duh. That's why I brought you here," I say as I lean down to pull the knot that Ray has made undone. Christian joins me and leans down to pull the canoe flush against the dock. He gingerly helps me step in. As I take my seat, Christian steps down inside as well and pushes us away from the dock.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: This is my fav chapter yet! i used it to fill in some gaps concerning Ana's mom's Husband Number Three...Keep reading to find out! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! I LOVE REVIEWS!**

He takes the oars that are lying in the bottom of the boat, and skillfully starts rowing. He keeps a leisurely, rhythmic pace as he propels us along.

"Ray built this thing himself," I say. "I used to love it when he would bring me out here as a kid."

I fall silent for a minute as examine everything around me. Christian just gazes at me thoughtfully as he keeps pulling at the oars.

Finally, when we're in the middle of the lake, Christian halts his rowing and simply rests his hands on the paddles.

I meet his gaze as I lean back on my hands on the wide wooden seat. I can't help the grin that spreads across my face.

"What?" he asks, answering my smile.

"This. I feel like I'm in a romance novel right now," I confess, my grin getting bigger.

He chuckles. "So this was your hideout as a teenager?"

My grin fades a little.

"I started coming here before Ray and my mom got divorced," I tell him, a little sadly. "You know – get away from all the arguing," I shrug a little, looking away somewhere across the water.

Christian cocks his head to the side.

"That must've been hard. Watching your parents fall apart and go their separate ways," he mutters, with his voice full of sympathy. I fell a little uncomfortable. This isn't something I've ever discussed with anyone. It's been years ago now, so there's never any point to bringing it up.

I glance back him.

"It was," I confirm. "But at least it happened when I was plenty old enough to understand what was going on. I knew how to deal with it as a teenager. I can't imagine what really young kids go through when it happens."

Christian nods as he studies me.

"What exactly made them split up?" he wonders aloud.

I shift uncomfortably.

"Well, they just weren't getting along anymore, but…" I trail off, looking away again.

"But what?" Christian asks.

"I didn't find this out until a few years later," I start. "But the real reason my mom decided to officially leave Ray, is because she met Steve." I look back at Christian as I finish talking.  
"Steve?" he asks.

"Husband Number Three," I clarify. "Ray doesn't know that. My mom never even told me until after I was already in college."

"She cheated on Ray?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"No. No," I say quickly, coming to my mom's defense. She's never been like that, and I don't want Christian thinking that of her.

"It wasn't like that. She met him when he was on a business trip from Texas. They stayed in touch after he went back, and the less she and Ray got along, the more she talked to Steve. It only took a few weeks before she was convinced she was in love with him. She filed for divorce, and bada bing bada boom, one month later, I was her maid of honor for wedding number three," I finish sardonically.

"You said that you and Steve didn't along. Why is that?" Christian asks.

I laugh once sarcastically. "Because he was a moron," I answer caustically. Christian's eyebrows shoot up as I go on.

"He did nothing but sit around on his lazy ass and disrespect my mom. After she moved in, he became very verbally abusive – treated her like crap. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was watching her _take _it. I had to sit back and watch as she let him walk all over her everyday. And the reason he didn't like me is because I didn't let him do that to me. Unlike my mom, I would actually stand up for myself. Even at sixteen, I didn't put up with that crap. I only lasted a matter of weeks before I called Ray and told him to book me a flight back here."

Christian looks slightly surprised at my little outburst. I can feel the remnants of anger towards that man rising. I heave a sigh.

"Less that five months later, she finally came to her senses – divorced him. I think she finally realized that jumping from one marriage to the next wasn't working too well because she slowed down. It was two years before she married again. I think she's finally gotten it right this time though. I like Bob. He takes care of her – treats her like she deserves." I smile fondly.

I can tell Christian is highly intrigued by finding out all this new information. I realize that I've never once talked about any of this to anyone. A couple of times I discussed my mom's serial marriages to Kate, but not like this.

"You seem very close to Ray," he observes. Okay, that came from left field.

"Yes," I answer, surprised at this sudden observation. I smile sheepishly. "I was always a daddy's girl," I admit.

"Really?" Christian asks, looking amused.

I nod. "I've never really been a _step_ daughter to Ray. From the moment he and my mom met, he loved and raised me just like I were his own."

Christian smiles softly. We sit in silence and I watch another wave of curiosity transform his features.

He tilts his head to the side.

"Ana, you told me your father died when you a baby…" he begins. Before he can go any further, I interrupt him.

"Information you already knew," I say sourly, making him smile ruefully.

"How?" he asks gently. This takes me by surprise. I expected that he would already know this too.

"Um, he was killed in a marine training accident the day after I was born," I explain.

Christian nods. "Do you ever miss having the chance to know him?"

"Of course," I answer honestly. "Especially when my mom starts talking about him, but you can't really miss someone you never knew. Plus, I wouldn't have Ray, and Ray's been a better father than I ever could've asked for."

Christian nods again, still studying me.

"I just can't help thinking about what it did to my mom. She was nineteen, and just had me when her new husband was killed. I can't imagine what she went through," I say, sadly. "I don't think she ever fully got over it."

I fall into silence. I'm not used to talking this much especially not when it concerns me. I feel almost winded.

Christian gives me an almost fascinated look.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, feeling self-conscious.

He gives me a beautiful smile. "Because I feel like I just got one step closer in getting to know you," he answers.

"Several steps actually," I correct tartly. "Because I've never talked about all of this with anyone before."

"Really?" he asks. I nod and he grins.

"Well, Miss Steele, I'm honored."

"As you should be, Mr. Grey," I sniff, crossing my arms.

Just then, a loud rumble breaks through our 's thunder. We've been so busy talking that neither of us have been paying attention to the darkening weather as we've continued to drift further down the lake and away from the dock.

Christian's eyes dart up to the sky at the same time that mine do. "Shit," he hisses and immediately starts rowing, turning around. I keep my eyes on the billowing clouds. A storm is brewing fast. It looks like the bottom is going to fall out any second now.

Though Christian is working double time – his competitive rowing very obvious in the skill he uses as we race along fast than I thought possible – we're still a good distance from the dock when the first drops of water hit my face. _Here we go._

Sure enough, within seconds, we're being drenched in a downpour.

I can't help the laugh that escapes me while Christian looks as if I've lost my mind. He's clearly not amused.

In the few minutes that it takes us reach our starting point, we're soaked. We might as well be standing in a shower.

Christian quickly docks us and climbs out before helping me onto the sturdy little pier as well.

Instead of dashing back up the trail toward the dry truck. I stand still on the dock and lift my face to the sky, letting the warm drops wash down my face. I grin and let out another laugh of childish glee.

Looking back down, I see Christian staring at me with an expression of humor on his face. I can't help as my eyes travel down his soaked body. His jeans and light sweater are clinging to him, revealing every line and curve of his muscled body. Water runs down his face as he rakes his hand through his soaked hair to move it off his forehead.

Ignoring my gaze, he inquires, "What seems to be so funny, Miss Steele?" He has to shout a little to make his voice heard over the deafening sound of the beating rain against the water and ground. I grin and move towards him.

I wrap my soaking arms around his neck. I bring my face right up to his, squinting through the rain.

"I thought this only happened in movies," I answer him. He grins with boyish delight wrapping his arms around me.

"You know what?" I ask.

"What?" he asks with a glint in his eyes.

"I've always fantasized about being kissed in the rain," I tell him as I put my fingers into his dripping hair and stand on my tip toes so I'm closer to his face. It's true, but I think a lot of girls do. Not just me. I just never thought it would actually happen like this.

Christian's eyes light up just before he brings his lips down to meet mine. As if on cue, another clap of thunder rolls when our lips meet. If I wasn't so distracted, I might actually laugh. Instead, my mind is concentrating on Christian's wet lips moving in sync with mine. Our tongues come out to meet each other as water drips down our faces.

Christian ends the kiss just as soon as he began it.

"Like that?" he asks with wild amusement in his gray eyes.

I nod. "Exactly like that."

Lightning fast, he scoops me up bridal style. I wrap my arms securely around his neck as he walks off the dock and up towards the trail. Coming to a large oak, he sets me down on my feet and gently pushes me against the wide trunk. The large leaves shield us somewhat from the pelting water.

"Well, you know what I fantasize about?" he asks bringing his face down closer to mine and caressing my cheek with his fingertips amidst the water dripping down my skin.

"What?" I croak, hoarsely. Desire has begun to unfurl in my body.

He leans even closer and pins me with an intense look.

"Making love to you in the rain," he murmurs against my lips. His words cause a moan to escape me just as he brings his lips to mine again.

Without breaking our kiss, he lifts me so that I wrap my legs around him. He uses his body to pin me against the tree. The rough bark digs into my skin, but I barely notice. We're all teeth and tongue as the rain continues to pour around us and another clap of thunder sounds.

Moving his lips from mine, he kisses down to my wet neck, nibbling at my exposed collar bone. I roll my head to the side to give him easier access, and my fingers pull harder in his hair, now darkened to black with the rain.

I feel him slowly move his hands creeping up my bare legs to hike up my cotton skirt. Reaching underneath, he grabs my flimsy panties and with one jerk, tears them apart. He still doesn't stop kissing my shoulder and neck as I feel him then reach to undo his pants.

His lips find mine again, and his tongue roughly invades my mouth, exploring the familiar area.

I'm wet – in more ways than one – and panting around his lips and tongue.

Breaking the kiss, he peers down at me against the tree. Hiking me up to get a better grip on my thighs, he touches his forehead to mine, shielding my upturned face from the pelting rain drops that drop through the leaves.

Very slowly, he pushes into me.

I moan loudly as my back arches off the tree, and I close my eyes.

He pushes in and out several times very slowly before he picks up speed, setting the perfect rhythm.

Thunder rolls as we make love. _How fitting._ I think.

He leans down and starts kissing and sucking the skin on my neck once more as he fills me again and again.

I tighten my grip on his hair as his fingers dig into the flesh where he holds my thighs.

"Christian," I moan.

I can feel myself quickening with his every move.

"Give it to me, Ana," Christian groans beside my ear. I tighten my arms and legs around him as I come into a million pieces, crying out along side a clap of thunder.

Christian stills inside me as he hits his climax as well, calling my name.

We don't move as we both come down from out passionate high. When our breathing has slowed, he pulls out of me and lowers me gently back to onto my feet. He leans down to plant one more soft kiss on my wet lips as he redoes his jeans.

"Ray's going to think we drowned if we don't get back," I say.

Christian grins and grabs my hand as we start going back up the trail.

By the time we pull back into the driveway, we've started to dry out a little bit. I still can't wait to go upstairs and change. I flush when I consider my sans panties state of dress.

Christian takes care of the few grocery bags and follows me into the house.

"We're back," I call as we go into the kitchen to put the groceries down.

"Did you get caught in the rain?" Ray calls back.

"Yeah, so we're going upstairs to change. Be down in a minute."

Christian and I both climb the stairs back to my bedroom. We quickly put on some fresh clothes, hanging the wet ones over the shower in the bathroom to dry.

Back downstairs, Christian heads to living room to join Ray, and I go back into the kitchen to start dinner. It's nothing fancy, just chicken alfredo. It won't take long, but I'm still nervous about leaving Ray and Christian. I strain to hear their conversation, but I can't make out anything they're saying over the TV.

I work quickly and efficiently. It doesn't take long to get reacquainted with the old kitchen as I bustle about, humming to myself. My concentration is interrupted when Ray ambles in going towards the fridge. I watch as he pulls out two beers.

Coming closer to me, he leans towards me. "I like him, Annie," he whispers conspiratorially to me. My face spreads into a grin as he walks back out.

"All right boys," I call when it's finished. "Dinner's ready."

I don't have to call twice because both of them are already up before I get done speaking.

Dinner goes really well, as we all make easy conversation. When the last morsel is eaten, I shoo Ray out and I start to clean up the kitchen. Christian insists upon helping me so between the two of us, we make quick work of the cleanup.

The rest of the night goes by smoothly, and before long, Ray announces that he's retiring for the evening. We say goodnight and each head into our rooms.

I switch the bedroom light on, and quietly shut the door behind Christian and me, making sure to lock it. Christian's rearranging our things as I open the unused closet doors. There's not much inside, but one of the items catches my eye. I pull it down off the top shelf and close the door. Christian is watching me as I slide into the middle of the bed.

"Come here," I say, patting the bed in front on me. Slipping off his shoes, he climbs in front of me, sitting cross legged like me.

I slip the lid off of the box that is resting in between us. It's full of pictures. Christian curiously dives in, picking up the first picture which is of me when I was little. His lips curve into a smile of wonder.

"How old were you here?" he asks, flashing me the picture.

"Um," I say, examining it. "About five I think."

He looks back at it once more before setting it to the side and going back for another.

Christian says nothing for the next few pictures, just examines each one with a grin plastered on his face.

"You had short hair?" Christian suddenly asks, his voice shocked. He lifts the picture to show me. Sure enough, my brunette locks were only about shoulder length.

I laugh momentarily.

"I was fifteen and curious about how it would look. It was the only time I ever cut it that short, and I swore I'd never do it again," I tell him fervently.

"You didn't like it?" He raises his eyebrows in curiosity.

I shake my head. "It was okay at first, but you can do more with long hair."

Christian nods, still looking at the picture. Finally, he puts it to the side as well and goes for the next one.

We do this for a long time. I point out different family members and explain when and where a lot of them were taken.

When he gets toward the bottom, he picks the next one up and studies it. I can't see what the picture is of.

He glances up and me fleetingly, then back down at the photo.

"This is your dad, isn't it?" he asks, holding it up.

I immediately recognize the worn picture.

I nod and he glances at it once more.

"I look just like him, don't I?" I murmur.

"Yeah. I see where you got eyes," he says, meeting my gaze and giving me a shy smile.

"My mom says that's the first thing that she noticed about him," I say as I paw through the remaining pictures and hand Christian a few more which he takes and studies each one in turn – no doubt the unmistakable resemblance between me and my father.

The last few photos are more of my senior pictures. One of them is a smaller copy of the picture on the wall which he complimented earlier.

"Can I have this?" he asks, holding it up.

"Sure," I say.

We finish going through the pictures and put them back in the box. I set it over by our bags. I want to take it home with me.

When I turn back around, Christian is still sitting on the bed, eyeing me and running his index finger over his bottom lip as if in deep thought.

"What?" I ask, coming to a halt.

He shrugs. "I just feel like I know you so much better than I did this morning."

I smile. "I know the feeling."

He smirks back at me, and suddenly sprawls across my bed with his hands leisurely resting behind his head.

My smile widens to a silly grin and I tip toe quickly over to him, crawling onto the bed beside him. I snuggle up to his side and rest my head on the crook of his shoulder, and peek up at him.

"Hi," I whisper while he grins down at me as he brings his arm down to hold me to him.

"Hi."

"I had a wonderful day today," I tell him sincerely.

"Me too," he answers.

He gazes at me as I feel his hand sliding down my back. Reaching the hem of my shirt, his fingers slip underneath and make contact with my skin. I jump a little at the contact because of the temperature of his skin.

"Jeez, your fingers are cold," I complain, stiffening.

"Then help me warm them up," he croons softly, bringing his lips to my forehead and sliding his chilly hands further up my back.

I suddenly get an idea.

"Hold on," I tell him, suddenly sitting up.

"Ana?" he asks as I slide off the bed. Without answering him, I walk across the room and go over to the light switch beside the door and switch it off. Everything goes pitch black. I can't even see my hand in front of my face. The only thing visible is the slight gray moonlight that is peaking around the curtains at the window. However, it's not enough to illuminate anything else.

"Ana?" I hear Christian ask again.

"Stay there," I tell. I very slowly start inching my way back toward the direction of the bed. "Shit, I can't see," I whisper with a small giggle. I have my hands thrown out blindly in front of me to keep from slamming into something.

"Clearly," Christian points out from the bed. I can hear the smile in his voice. Hearing him talk, guides back toward where he is.

In a few moments, my fingers make contact with the bed, and I bring my knee up to climb back on.

Christian gropes toward my direction until we make contact.

"What did you do that for?" he asks in the darkness.

"Everything's more intense when you can't see right?" I ask pointedly, staring into the darkness where his voice is coming from.

"Mmm hmm," he murmurs.

"Well, I figured we could both go by feeling," I whisper, trailing my hand up his obscured arm to emphasize my point.

I hear his intake of breath.

Suddenly, I feel his breath on my face.

"I like that idea," he breathes.

Just those four small words, whispered right against my face, inflames my blood and causes desire to flood through me. He's blindfolded me before, but this is different.

Having my eyes wide open yet not seeing anything is somehow better – especially knowing that he can't see either.

Feeling my way, I loop my arms around his neck. He's sitting up now, so I move until I'm straddling him.

His arms secure me to him as his lips blindly find mine. My fingers feel find their way into his satiny hair, and his hands start wandering their way back up my shirt again. They're still chilly against my now overheated skin, but it only seems to add to the high.

He pushes his fingers up further until, finally, he uses them to pull my shirt over my head. I raise my arms to help him, and his fingers disappear momentarily as he discards the piece of clothing.

I'm quick to reciprocate as his fingers once again find my skin.

With both of us bare-chested, Christian unexpectedly falls backward, taking me with him.

Tearing my lips away from his, I blindly kiss down the side of his face and onto his neck.

His hands grip my backside and I hear him release a sigh.

I place open mouthed kisses all the way down onto his chest, stopping to graze my teeth over one nipple then the other.

When my lips come to the hair of his happy trail, I sit up. I trail my fingers down his chest and toward the top of his pants.

I feel my way and slowly unbutton and unzip his pants. Hooking my fingers into his waistband, I shimmy his pants and boxers down. He lifts his hips to help me. When they're thrown somewhere onto the floor, I move back up his body.

As soon as I'm straddling him again, I feel him move suddenly, sitting up, then rolling us, so that I'm underneath him. The movement leaves me breathless. My fingers knot into his hair as he starts to kiss down my throat, his hands wandering down my sides.

I whimper and suddenly remember Ray's close proximity and clamp my mouth shut.

He nibbles softly in between kisses until he reaches the swell of my left breast. When his nose hits the material of my bra, he gently reaches in, and frees my breast, trussing it up.

He repeats the process before he brings his lips back to my skin where he left off.

Moving lower, he closes his lips around my nipple, laving it with his tongue and rolling it between his teeth.

I press my lips together to stifle the low moan that escapes from my throat.

"Shhh," Christian breathes against my skin as he moves to the side and repeats the process. One hand grips his hair harder while one flies out beside me, latched onto the comforter on the bed as my body bows into his.

When he finishes his affectionate torture, he lifts me so he can reach around my back and unsnap my bra, throwing it somewhere.

Doing just as I did, he kisses down my belly until he reaches the top of my pants, where he feels his way to the snap and zipper.

He deftly undoes them and slides both my pants and panties downward as I pick my hips up. I hear them hit the floor to my right, my hearing heightened from the lack of sight. He leisurely trails his hands up legs, starting at my ankles. As he moves up, he guides my legs father apart.

When his hands reach the very tops of my thighs, he glides one to grip my hip while the other cups my sex.

I bite down hard onto my lip to keep quiet. He moves his fingertips gently until I feel one then another slide into me. I whimper quietly and move my pelvis to meet his fingers.

He inhales sharply. "God, Ana, you're so ready," he rumbles from the darkness. His words do nothing but turn me on further. I'm aching for him.

"Christian, please," I gasp, breathless into the dark as he moves his fingers deliciously slow inside me.

"What do you want, baby?" he whispers seductively, his voice sounding closer this time.

"Make love to me," I murmur almost incoherently.

I feel his fingers slowly disappear as he removes them. He shifts beside me, and out of nowhere, he grabs my hips and rolls me on top of him.

I gasp in surprise as my hands fly out to steady myself, making contact with his chest. His hands are gripping my hips as he guides me over him. Moments later, he's pushing me onto him.

I inhale loudly rather than giving into the urge to moan. My head lulls backward and my hands tighten their grip where they rest on his hips.

When he's fully inside me, he stills and sits up suddenly. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin right in front of me as we come face to face. I can feel his sweet breath hitting my skin as he nuzzles my cheek with his nose.

"Ana," he breaths. I whimper in response. My arms move around him and surround his broad shoulders, gripping him closer to me.

He uses his hands to lift my hips upward, moving me slowly, upward, then down again. I bury my face into his neck and press my mouth into his skin, muffling a moan.

He lifts my hips up again, and as he moves them back down, he tilts his pelvis, thrusting into me as he brings me down onto him.

The feeling is exquisite. Another suppressed moan escapes me as I bite into the base of his neck. I can feel his jaw clench against my head as a groan rumbles through his chest.

Soon, he releases my hips and gently glides his hands up. One encircles my waist, holding us chest to chest as the other continues to move up my back, onto my neck, until his hand is cradling the back of head where it still rests in the crook of his neck.

After he's released my hips, I immediately speed up the pace that he originally set.

I feel Christian turn his face towards mine.

"Slow, baby. I want you to feel me," he murmur silkily against my hair.

"Christian," I mewl into his neck but slow the pace back down.

"Shhh. Quiet, baby," he whispers, his voice dropping lower as if to emphasize his point.

With this rhythm, I can feel every sweet inch of him as he moves inside me, thrusting upward to meet me halfway as I move down onto him.

I can feel his love communicated with every move – our love demonstrated in our precious connection.

We go on like that, our rough breathing and low sounds of pleasure the only noise in the pitch black.

My arms tighten around Christian and the fingers of one hand tangle into his hair as that familiar feeling starts to set in. I can feel my body stiffen in his arms.

Christian puts his lips right against my ear.

"Come with me, baby," he whispers very quietly. With two more thrusts, I come around him, not caring about the volume of his name coming off of my lips.

He follows suit, coming to a halt and finding his release with my name on his lips as well.

My arms go limp around his neck and my head lulls against his shoulder as I return to planet earth.

Easing out of me, he lies back down and cradles me against his chest with my legs neatly folded on either side of him. I can feel the springy hair of his chest against my cheek. I nuzzle him, inhaling his distinct Christian Grey scent.

One of his arms is wrapped diagonally down my back with his hand resting on my hip while the other gently plays with my hair.

I raise my head and rest my chin on his chest, looking in the general direction of his face in the darkness.

"I feel like I'm sixteen again," I whisper to him. He laughs softly.

"Why? You have any boys in your bed at sixteen?" he teases in a hushed tone.

"No, but I still feel like we're sneaking around for some reason."

"Well, engaged or not, I wouldn't want your father to hear all of that. I prefer not having someone pull a gun on me you know," he says, voice saturated with amusement.

For a fleeting second, I think about teasing with something like, _It's not as bad as you think._ But I immediately squash that idea, knowing that it probably wouldn't be received very well.

"He wouldn't pull a gun on you," I laugh.

"Still don't want to risk it."

I grin and sluggishly reposition myself, so I'm snuggled into his side.

Christian reaches around until he finds the covers and pulls them around us.

A huge yawn escapes me. Christian kisses my head.

"Sleep, baby," he murmurs.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you, too."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Alright guys, here's the next chapter! I had it almost done when i posted the rest of them. And after receiving all of ur sweet reviews, i went ahead and finished this for ya! I hope to get maybe two more chapters out of this :) Maybe three. We'll see. Lemme know what u think!**

It's Sunday evening. We got home from Ray's this morning. After our little trip, all I wanted to do was stay cuddled up with Christian watching movies or something else lazy. But no. Christian was having none of that. He insisted that I meet with Caroline Acton to stock up for our honeymoon.

I have no idea why she couldn't just pick everything out herself – she did fine procuring the clothes in my wardrobe.

It actually kind of pisses me off that he won't tell me where the hell we're going, yet he pushes me to go shopping for it. It wouldn't be so bad if he had gone with me instead, but he stayed home to take care of some work in his study while I was forced to shop. I shudder.

Now, I'm finally plopping down in my chair in the library. Leaning back in the comfy chair, I kick my feet up on the desk and sigh. This next week's going to be hectic. I have two workouts with Claude; my mom is coming into town; Christian and I have to meet with the architect Gia Matteo about the house; the rehearsal dinner Friday night; and work until Wednesday. I'm taking my time off starting Thursday because my mom gets in Wednesday night and I'm having my "bachelorette spa day" Thursday; and I want Friday to spend with Christian and focus on us.

A smile creeps onto my exhausted face. _I'm getting married Saturday! _The thought still blows me away.

I glance down at my hand where my ring rests. The two carat diamond catches the light and throws rainbows. I wonder vaguely when Christian got this. I have a sneaking suspicion that he went ahead and bought it during the days before I officially said yes because there is no way he got it on his birthday. We were together every second that day, but maybe he paid someone else to get it. I study the ring with that thought.

_No, he definitely picked this out himself. _The ring fits my personality too well to have been picked out by someone who doesn't know me.

I drop my hand back in my lap and stare up at the ceiling. By the end of this week, I'm going to need our honeymoon vacation – wherever the hell it is.

I smile again as I think about having Christian to myself for two weeks straight. In my book – that's heaven.

Christian Grey – my husband. I smile wider.

There seems to be something almost magical about that word – _husband._

I think with great satisfaction about being able to gesture toward Christian and introduce him as my _husband_. It makes him sound so – so…_mine. _My thoughts flicker to the rings that we'll be picking up Tuesday. I can't wait to get that platinum band on his left hand. I know it won't stop women from fawning all over him, but at least it will give me a visible claim on him.

During our spa day, I'm going to stop by and pick up the platinum cuff links that I sneakily ordered with our initials engraved on them. The jewelers already called me to let me know they've come in, but I can't get them yet without Christian knowing about it. I plan on giving them to him the night before the wedding before we're separated.

I frown thinking about it.

It'll be the first time in weeks that Christian and I have spent the night apart. My mind flickers to the two nights I've witnessed his nightmares. I fervently hope that they don't come back during our time apart. He'll be staying at his parents' house with Eliot while I'll be staying the night with my mom and Bob at the Olympic and being escorted over to Bellevue early in the morning, while everyone insures that Christian and I don't see each other until the big moment.

I feel butterflies in my stomach at the thought. I close my eyes and imagine myself walking down the aisle on Ray's arm, and seeing Christian at the end waiting for me. I can feel a smile curve my lips.

I still have a hard time believing that that beautiful man wants to marry me. I recall the morning I was getting ready to do the interview – being so nervous and hating the fact that Kate had shanghaied me into doing it.

Wow. God, if I had only known…

The sound of the door clicking open interrupts all of my musings.

I idly slide my eyelids halfway open and see Christian strolling into the room. He's wearing a white button down and a pair of khaki pants. He looks his usual delectable self.

I still have my feet kicked up languidly onto the desk top. He ambles closer until he comes around the desk and halfway sits on it right in front me. I give him a tranquil smile, and sit up slightly.

"Hi," I utter.

"Hi," he purrs back. "What are you doing?"

"Daydreaming," I yawn.

"About what?" he asks as he crosses his arms across his chest and observes me curiously.

"I'll give you a hint," I say and reach my arm up to lightly tap my index finger against the tip of his nose.

He smiles.

"Hungry?" I ask. He nods, so I remove my feet from the desk and stiffly stand, raising my arms above my head into a cat-like stretch.

"I think there are leftovers of Mrs. Jones' spaghetti," I say through a yawn. "Sound good?"

"Yeah," he replies, stepping out of his casual stance against my desk.

He follows as I totter bare-foot out of the library and head for the kitchen.

Christian pours us each a glass of wine as I grab the two Tupperware dishes out of the fridge and set to heating our dinner up. My stomach growls at the scent of the warming food. I didn't realize that I was hungry until now.

I put a helping onto two plates as Christian put the placemats down and takes his seat.

I set one plate in front of him and the other in my place as I slide into the high stool. We make comfortable small talk as we eat the delicious meal thanks to Mrs. Jones.

When we've finished, I clear away the dishes and quickly clean up. I look up to see Christian looking at me with speculation, as if he's in deep thought.

I cock my head to the side.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" I ask.

He runs his index finger over his bottom lip, and takes a deep breath like he's about to say something.

Instead, it seems as if he changes his mind, and he suddenly stands and walks over to me.

He holds out his hand. _Okay, I'm confused. _But I take his outstretched hand anyway.

"Come," he orders and turns to lead me out of the room. I follow behind him meekly as I wonder what he's doing. For a fleeting second, I think we might be headed for the playroom, but that idea is proved wrong when he passes the stairs leads me into the hallway.

I'm a tad bit surprised when he takes me into his study, and quietly closes the door behind us. He walks me a few more steps and drops my hand at the front of his desk while he continues to walk around it towards his chair. I stay standing in front of him with the desk separating us.

I say nothing but observe him with quiet curiosity as he quickly sits down in the chair and moves his hands about the desk with ordered efficiency. He smoothly pushes several papers toward me, all side by side, with the writing turned toward me so I can read them.

My eyes scan the black type, but I don't make any sense of it with my cursory glance. Instead, I look toward Christian for an explanation.

He plucks up a pen from his desk and offers it to me. I can feel my eyebrows knitting together as I slowly reach up to take the pen.

"I need you to sign all of these," Christian says with a serious look on his face.

My lips twitch a little.

"I thought we were past signed contracts," I tease.

He smiles briefly in response. "This is nowhere near the same thing," he answers.

"Then what is all this?" I ask as I look back down at he papers before me.

"While you were gone today, I talked to my lawyer and made some final arrangements. This – " he gestures toward one of the sheets. "Will name you as my sole beneficiary should anything ever happen to me." As soon as he says 'sole beneficiary' my throat closes, and I understand what all of this is. He goes on without a pause.

"These –" he gestures toward the next three. "All will put your name on several different bank accounts, and this – "he gestures to the last one. "Signifies that your student loans are paid for."

He finishes and looks up at my wide-eyed gaze with a cool, business-like expression. I suck in breath of air. I hadn't noticed that I'd been holding it in. Shock courses through me at his last statement.

"You paid my student loans off?" I ask in a hurried whisper, unable to push any more volume out of my lungs.

"Of course I did," he answers simply with a small shrug.

"Christian…"I trail off because I don't know what to say. I hadn't really thought about any this, so it's kind of taking me by surprise.

He just looks at me expectantly.

"All of this is so unnecessary," I finally finish.

"No, it's not," he disagrees with a small shake of his head. "This is what I want."

I release a huge, exasperated sigh. I briefly consider pressing my point, but dismiss it instead.

I've a long day and I really don't feel like picking a fight with him right now. So, I swallow my pride, and click the pen open. Bending, I find each of the proper lines and sign my name on all four of the papers.

Standing straight again, I close the pen and hand it back to him with an indulgent look on my face. He takes it with a pleased expression.

"One more thing," he says with a small smile.

_Oh, goodness. What now?_

He reaches into his desk momentarily and pulls something out. He offers it to me between his index and middle finger. It's a black card.

Hesitantly, I take it from him. It's a black Amex card just like the one he handed to me the day at Clayton's – except this one has my name on it. Or what will be my name…

Anastasia R. Grey

"Let me guess – unlimited balance?" I ask with a wry smile. He nods.

I sigh again, looking at the plastic square.

"There's no point it arguing this is there?" I ask helplessly when I look back up.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "So you might as well just be gracious about it and accept it."

I want to roll my eyes, but refrain – now's probably not the best time for that. Instead, I push the papers to the side and lean as far as I can over the desk toward him to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Well, in that case, thank you my dear," I say as sweetly as I can.

He grins and gives me another, deeper kiss.

When we break apart, he smiles and says, "See? That wasn't so hard now wasn't it?"

I just give him a begrudging look, again, refraining from rolling my eyes.

"Are you done?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Almost," he says. "Have a few more calls to make. Then I'm all yours."

I nod. "Okay. I'll see you in a bit, then. I'm gunna do try to find a place for all the stuff Ms. Acton helped me pick out."

He nods absentmindedly, gathering the papers into a stack.

I sigh as I quietly shut the door behind me and walk slowly down the hall toward our bedroom.

To dispel the deadpan silence, I grab my iPod and set into the dock on the nightstand that's on my side of the bed.

I turn on my "Grey Playlist" that I made the other day. It's full of sings that remind me of Christian – mostly love songs.

I've been planning to swipe his iPod and make a playlist for him, but I haven't gotten around to it yet.

The thought gives me inspiration – screw putting away all of these clothes. I'm gunna make my man a playlist!

Now's the perfect time since he's in his study for now. And because I don't know how much longer he's gunna be, I start moving quickly.

I grab my iPod out of the dock and scurry out of the room and back into my library where my Mac is.

I fire up my iTunes and go to work, scrolling through all of my twelve hundred songs, picking out which ones fit.

When I'm finally finished, I debate momentarily on what to name it. I decide to keep it simple and type in the name.

_From Ana  
_

There, that ought to get his attention. He has a workout with Claude tomorrow and he always takes his iPod along when he works out, so I know he'll see it then.

Now…his iPod…

_Shit! Where is it?_

After a few moments, I remember the last place I saw it.

_Double shit!_

It's upstairs in the playroom! It was left in there from the last time we were in there several days ago.

Determined to get this done, I waste no time in springing up and making another mad dash to our room to get the key.

It takes me frustratingly long to pull out Christian's nightstand drawer and rummage around for the key.

Once I close my hand around it, I glide back out and toward the stair case, ascending toward the Red Room of Pain. Well, not pain anymore…It's all pleasure now. The thought makes smile as I slide the key in and unlock it, twisting the knob.

I step inside and flick on the light, illuminating the medieval looking room. Ignoring my surroundings, I walk straight to the intimidatingly large sound system and scan the area for the iPod touch. I wave my hand in front of it, and the motion sensors make the glass panels glide open. I locate the iPod quickly and snatch it up, turning on my heel to head back out.

I turn fleetingly for a moment, casting a longing glance into the room before snapping back to my mission and exiting completely.

I make sure to lock the door back, covering my tracks that I've been in there and hurry back downstairs.

I relax once I've got the sync complete. There, now he'll have himself a little surprise from me tomorrow. A small one, I know, but a surprise nonetheless.

Shutting down my Mac, I grab up both of our iPods, complete with new addition of the playlist and head back to our bedroom.

However, as soon as I'm walking past the door to his study, I hear Christian practically shouting at someone over the phone. I cringe. I hate yell-ie Christian. He scares me. I blow out the instant anxiety I feel at the sound – reminding myself that the anger isn't at me…for once.

So, ignoring it, I hurry past the door and to the mast bedroom to set out on my original task. Again, I set my iPod in the dock and set my Grey Playlist on shuffle. I simply put Christian's iPod on his nightstand. I don't think he'll read too much into it – I'm constantly hijacking it from wherever he leaves it lying around. I've become addicted to some of the music on there. His tastes are not only eclectic but also flawless. I love it.

I turn the volume of the music to a comfortable level and start going through all of the new, unbelievably priced clothes. I know I could just wait and Gail would probably do it for me. Hell, Christian might even have Taylor do it – that poor man's job description is no where near being limited it seems like.

But, ignoring the absurd price tags, I meticulously start finding a place for everything, making sure to utilize every convenient space. Escala is spacious, but the master bedroom's closet and drawers are getting just a tad crowded with all of my stuff in here on top of Christian's. It might not be so bad if Christian didn't insist on the whole new designer wardrobe for me – on top of his own impressive designer wardrobe.

I'm suddenly thinking that our idea about having separate closets in our room in the new house is a necessary one.

I put everything away, remembering where I put everything – especially the things that were bought specifically for the honeymoon, the prime example being all the tiny bikinis. I sigh out loud. I've never been a big fan of bikinis. I prefer to leave a little to the imagination and cover up a little. Call me a prude if you wish, but still.

But Christian stressed that swimwear would be important where we're going, so I assumed that we're going somewhere sunny, hot, and somewhat tropical. So, throwing caution to the wind, I went for the bikinis that Caroline Acton was raving about. In any case, at least I'll look as attractive as possible in front of Christian while we're lying on a beach – or wherever the hell we're going.

I'll have to pack all of this in a few days, so I keep everything to where it's easily reachable.

The thought makes me smile as excitement again courses through me.

_I'm gunna be freaking married by this weekend! Holy crap!_

The feeling of giddiness sweeps over me as I wrap up my little chore. Christian still hasn't appeared, so I think it's safe to say he's still working.

I pause in the closet just before exiting.

The sight of his sliver tie catches my eyes. Instinctively, I reach up to stroke the silky material and the checkered pattern from where it hangs with the rest of his ties.

I smile up at it. The last time it was out, Christian informed me that he wanted to wear it for the wedding. Perfect idea, if you ask me. Especially with the cufflinks that I've gotten for him. They're also silver, so it'll match seamlessly.

Closing the closet door, I walk back out into the bedroom and switch off the music.

I amble slowly into the hall, flicking out the light in the room. I pad barefoot across the floor, swinging my arms beside me like a kid.

However that feeling is very quick to evaporate when I once again approach Christian's study. I hear yelling again, this time even louder.

I stop short.

Good God. What the hell is going on? Someone must've really pissed my dear Fifty off! Again, sweet relief floods through me when I thank my lucky that it's not at me. Come to think of it, we haven't had a quantifiable argument lately. The feeling is almost strange.

I can't help but wonder if that will ever go away – the disagreements between Christian and me.

I know his controlling issues and domineering attitude aren't things that are really going to go away – nor do I want them to…they make him who he is. But I do hope that he'll learn to find just a tiny ounce of acceptance that I am my own independent person with a mind and will of my own.

The yelling abruptly stops and I inch closer. I can still hear his voice, but not what's being said. His tone has dropped to almost quiet now – too quiet. This is something else I know all too well when it comes to Christian. That low, menacing voice is worse than being yelled at – just about the only thing worse. I sincerely pity the other person on the other side of the phone.

I am a little surprised. Usually, I'm the only one who can make him that mad. The thought makes me smile ruefully.

Knowing that he's probably wound up and stressed out, so I decide to step in – maybe help my man out a little. And maybe even the other person on the end of the line. If I distract him, maybe he'll calm down.

I steel myself and take a deep breath as I put my hand on the knob and twist it. Throwing caution to the wind, I take a step into the room as if I'm preparing to meet my execution. By the tone in his voice, I just might be.

I slip in silently, not making a peep as I shut the door behind me. He doesn't notice my presence as his back is turned to me. He's running his hand through his hair aggressively and breathing harder than normal.

I timed it perfectly, because after just a few more seconds and several more threatening words, he ends the call rather abruptly.

I walk straight for his desk just as he's turning around. His livid face falters when he sees me. His expression instantly softens.

"Getting your panties in a twist, Mr. Grey?" I ask sweetly. His lips curve up fractionally before he goes back to frowning.

"Something like that," he says sardonically with a heavy sigh. "Fucking assholes don't know how the fuck to do their jobs."

I lift my eyebrows. He must be really worked up. He's usually not this profane.

"Why don't you leave all this be for a little while? Come de-stress with me?" I suggest, with a lifted brow.

He looks up at me with longing before glancing around his desk again, evaluating what's left to be done.

"I might be able to leave some of this shit undone…" he meditates to himself, fingering through some papers sitting before him.

Just as he says that, his phone vibrates loudly against the wood on his desk. His whole body stiffens with tension.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he complains just before picking it up and snarling, "Grey," into the receiver.

I start to turn back to exit the room, but he stops me, holding up his hand with a small shake of his hand and he mouths, "Stay."

So I stop and root myself in place as he snaps at the other person on the phone.

Jeez. He's freaking angry. I think about the night a couple of weeks ago when he was tense over work. I distracted him to get his mind off of it. Yes, he's much worse now, but it should still work.

I smirk with evil intent as an idea pops into my head.

Take a couple of leisurely steps to the side, I glance over to see Christian not even paying me any mind.

_Well, let's change that, shall we?_

I reach up slowly, almost boardly, to the top button on my black linen shirt. I undo one button, and very slowly go to the next one. I don't look back over to Christian. He's fallen silent, listening to the other side of the conversation.

I pull the material back and keep going. I'm on my last button when I finally do turn back to Christian.

He does a double take and his gray eyes widen just as I pop the last button and open it wide, running my fingers up over my skin to my shoulders as I shrug out of the shirt, letting it simply fall to the floor.

Now, I'm just in my bra and a pair of faded, denim cut-off shorts.

I give him a challenging look, raising one of my eyebrows and taking a very small step closer to where he stands behind his desk.

Just as he starts talking again to the person on the other line, I move my hands to my belt on my jeans. I take my sweet time unbuckling it, pulling slack in it. The whole time I keep my eyes on his.

When the belt hangs limp in the loops, I pop the button on my shorts and start stalking forward.

Christian's eyes narrow as I get nearer.

As I close the distance, I very slowly pull the zipper down and open the front enough to glimpse the lacey panties underneath.

Christian's eyes rove over me greedily as he continues his call – a little less irritated, I might add. It's working!

I stop at the edge of the wood, with the desk still separating us. Looking down at what I'm doing, I carefully use both of my hands to sweep the papers and different little objects out of the way onto either side of the desk.

The desk is big enough to allow plenty room.

When a little area is completely clear, I look back to Christian use deliberate slowness as I slide onto the desk, stomach down.

I crawl a couple inches before lowering myself down, resting comfortably on my tummy. I prop my chin up with my hand and bend my knees so that my feet are raised in the air. I lazily cross my ankles back and forth.

I continue to stare at Christian who is now sounding more and more distant in the answers he gives whoever he's talking to.

I smile knowingly at him just before I tilt my head to the side and sink my teeth into my lower lip.

I almost laugh when Christian suddenly interrupts the conversation and tells the person that he'll have to call them back later.

He hits end and throws the phone back onto the desk.

"Distracted are we, Mr. Grey?" I tease.

"Very," he breathes, his gray eyes alight with lust.

I smile at him and move off the desk, more gracefully than I usually manage.

I walk the two steps necessary to him and loop my arms around his neck.

"I think someone is on need of some serious de-stressing time," I say, pushing myself against him suggestively.

"Just what the doctor ordered," he murmurs, bending to give me a kiss.

I giggle against his lips. "Flynn better watch out. I might have him replaced soon," I joke, standing on my tip toes to bring my lips to his again for a deeper kiss.

His tongue moves out to collide with mine, and I turn to push him back toward the chair. I push him down hard into the leather desk chair. Without hesitating, I boldly move to straddle him, my knees on either side of his hips.

I knot my fingers in his hair and pull his mouth back to mine feverishly. He groans low as his hands grasp my hips.

Suddenly, his Blackberry starts vibrating again, making a horrible noise against the hard surface of the desk.

He groans again, this time with exasperation. I pull away and glare at the phone. Just as I feel him reach for it, I beat him to it, snapping the offending thing up.

I stare right at Christian and hit answer.

"I'm sorry. Mr. Grey is unavailable at the moment. He'll call you back," I say, using my best telephone voice – sickly sweet.

Christian's eyes widen, and I hit the end button.

"Now, Mr. Grey, where were we?" I ask, and toss the phone lightly behind me. It lands harmlessly in the carpet with a tiny _thud. _

"I can't believe you just did that," he mutters, sounding impressed.

"Well, Mr. Grey, I'm not fond of being interrupted. Besides, you need a break, and I think I know just the thing."

With that, I slide out of the chair and onto my own two feet. I take his hand and pull him up from the chair and lead him back out of the room.

**A/N: Ookay..so i'm thinking that maybe this needs to lead to a playroom scene? What do you guys think? I don't know if i could do it though. I'm kind of intimidated by trying to write something in the Red Room of Pain... Drop me a review and give me ur opinion!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: First of all, I have to apologize for all of the typos and mistakes that were in the last chapter. I wrote the last half of it very quickly and didn't catch them. The biggest one was the word 'distressing' when I meant DE-stressing…very different! Haha But they're mostly fixed now and I'm sorry for any future ones! **

** Anyways… By popular demand, most of u wanted a Red Room scene…So here it is! I struggled with it a little bit, but I did the best I could. Even stayed up half the night working on it! lol I hope u like it. Drop a review at the end and tell me what you think! **

I pull him to a stop in the middle of the hall, deliberating.

After a few moments, I say, _Fuck it _and decide to just go with it.

"Wait here," I tell Christian and immediately turn on my heel, going back down toward our bedroom, leaving him standing there – probably scratching his head wondering what on earth I'm doing.

I waste no time in going to Christian's side of the Chester drawers and immediately locate what I'm after - _playroom jeans! _

I run my fingers briefly over the ultra soft, worn jeans. I haven't asked him to wear these things yet, though we've paid the playroom a few visits over the past several weeks. I've secretly been hoping he would take initiative himself and put them on. He looks so damn hot in these things it should be illegal. Well, I'm pulling out all the stops right now, so what the hell right?

I climb to my feet and start to head back to the door before I stop short, almost forgetting something very important.

Wheeling back around, I go to Christian's nightstand and pull the key back out. Can't get in without it. I look down at the flashing _Yes _keychain that it's on and smile, running my finger over it momentarily.

Taking my find, I go back out into the hall and return to where Christian is still patiently waiting.

His eyes flicker to the folded material in my hand. His brows crease together. I can't tell if he knows what it is. Well, he's about to.

"Here," I say simply, handing the soft, ripped jeans to him. He takes them from me and his eyebrows go from being knitted together to lifting to the ceiling.

He doesn't say anything so I go on, business as usual. I'm a woman with a mission now, and I intend to fulfill it.

"Come on," I say casually, breezing past him. I note that my little strip tease has left me shirtless and my shorts are still undone, with the belt hanging limply. Oh well. It's all about to come off anyways, so what does it matter?

I can feel Christian following me as I stride purposefully through the apartment and toward the staircase. I hit the second step when I realize I forgot something very important. The iPod…duh…It's not a playroom experience without it.

"Here," I say, giving Christian the key to the playroom. "Go on up and I'll meet you there in a minute. I forgot something."

His eyebrows knit together, reminding me that he doesn't know I moved his iPod in the first place.

"Okay," he says quietly, turning to continue on up the stairs, but still looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

I turn on my heel and stride back across the apartment and down the hall toward the bedroom. Ignoring the draft against my bare torso, I go back over to Christian's nightstand and pick up the iPod. Unable to resist, I hit the home button to reveal the picture there. It's of Christian and I – one of our engagement pictures, taken by Jacob while we were unaware.

I smile down at the screen until it goes black again. Christian has arranged for Jacob to do our wedding pictures as well. I absolutely can't wait to see how they turn out either.

We've received our orders from the first shoot. I have two now framed at work, and a couple more in the library.

Christian has also taken a couple for both of his desks as well – the one in his study and the one at work.

The press went nuts over the ones that were released to the media. They were in almost every local magazine and all over the net. I've tried not to bother reading what they have to say though – I'm not interested in getting worked up over people's inane opinions.

We're still deliberating on the pictures to hang on the walls. My thoughts flicker to the house. Christian has said that he wants the black and white pictures from Jose's show to be displayed in the house. The thought makes me frown momentarily.

I placate myself with the idea of getting pictures of Christian and hanging them as well. I think for a second about the pictures of him that Jose also took in the shoot at Heathman. I grin to myself as I think about using those. I'm pretty sure it might be a bit much to ask my dear old friend to take any more…

I shake my head, dispelling my little internal debate, and focus on my earlier mission. I turn on my heel and start retracing my steps back out. Anticipation thrills through me as I think about the man waiting for me upstairs in the Red Room…

My heart picks up a couple beats as I turn and take the first few steps. Despite the chilly air caressing my skin, I suddenly feel warmer, excited. Jeez, I'm not even in there yet, and I can already feel desire unfurl in me.

Christian and I have gone in there averagely about once a week since his birthday. If I had it my way, we would probably be doing more, but Christian insists on taking it slow. I think he still thinks he's going to scare me off.

I roll my eyes at this thought – as if. Even if we were to have a repeat of that fateful night (which I sincerely doubt), there's no way I'm leaving Christian. For any reason.

Even after knowing what he's confessed to me about his mom – that he whips and fucks women because they remind him of her – there's still nothing that would make me leave. At least as long as he wants me here anyway.

Unfortunately, my thought process has made the excited feeling ebb away. I try not think about the whopping confession that he made the night of Leila's appearance.

It usually makes me sit around brooding about it all – disturbed beyond words. I think about what Christian has said on numerous occasions about me over thinking things…maybe that's what I'm doing. But how can you NOT?!

Seriously?!

One reoccurring thought surfaces every time, and this time is no exception. There's one question that bounces around uselessly in my mind as I pause just outside of the playroom door, not ready to go in yet.

Did he see her? – in the faces of all the young brunettes he's had over the years? When he was literally beating them, did he picture her? Wish it really were her that he was inflicting pain upon?

Logically, it seems the answer is yes, but then that leads to the very upsetting thought that he did a lot more than hit them. He also fucked all of those same women – who looked like his fucking mother! Who the hell has sex with someone who reminds them of their mom? That should be turn OFF not a turn ON!

The disconcerting thought is pointless, I know – there is no way in hell I would ever dare ask him any such thing – but I can't stop it. I've accepted it – especially since talking to Flynn – but of course it still bothers me occasionally. How could it not?

I sigh. My Fifty Shades…

Shaking my head, I clear my head of all of these thoughts – now is so not the time to be considering them.

So, I go for my usual method of reassuring myself.

_It's different now – he's different now. I'm not his mother. Unlike her, I actually take care of my baby._

I actually crack a smile thinking about _my baby_ – who happens to be waiting on the other side of this door for me. I let excitement wash back over me as I concentrate on nothing but playing with Christian. My smile widens with that as I finally twist the knob.

I open the door slowly, not moving until it's opened wide.

My face splits into a grin at the sight before me.

The dim lights are flicked on, casting just enough light over the burgundy colored walls. Christian is in the middle of the room, facing the door as he leans up against the back of the Chesterfield couch.

My greedy eyes sweep down his body. His chest is bare with his biceps on full display from him crossing his arms, and he's changed…those jeans…_Oh, my…_

I almost want to shake my head at the first few memories of this room. Yes, it was exciting back then as well because of the newness, the thrill of it all, but at the same time, I was scared shitless when he brought me in here – not just of the room, but of Christian of himself.

Dominant Christian is nothing to joke about. My thoughts flicker to those memories – his cold, hard stare…his brusque commands…the threat of punishment. Yeah, enough to make a girl tremble a little.

My smile falters for a fraction as I enter when I hear his harsh voice in my head demanding, "Yes what?"

My smile returns full force when I remind myself again that it's different now – he's different now.

As if to reinforce my thoughts, Christian's face sweeps up into a sincere smile as I shut the door behind me.

"Well, Miss Steele, it's about time. I was starting to worry that you were standing me up," he teases, straightening his stance from the couch.

I smirk and quirk an eyebrow at him. "What? You think I chickened out on you?"

Now it's Christian's smile that falters. _Shit! What did I say now?_

I regard him curiously as I close the space between us, standing right in front of him but not yet touching.

He looks down at me with interest.

"You do know there's nothing to be afraid of in here anymore, right?" he asks quietly. I want to roll my eyes so badly but don't. Jeez, I was kidding for Christ's sake when I said 'chickened out'. I guess that implied that I was worried about coming up here in the first place – in Christian's mind anyway.

But I have to remind myself that Christian is still somewhat unsure with the idea of us being here – the night I left really made him shy away from it. So my guess is that this question is him wanting reassurance. He still worries – aloud sometimes – that I go in here just because I think he wants to, not because I want to as well.

So, swallowing my small bout of exasperation, I smile understandingly at him, completely relaxed – something I would have never felt in here before.

"Of course I do," I say, reaching up to touch his face. He leans his cheek into my hand. "I have something I didn't have before."

His eyebrows crease with curiosity. "And what's that?"

"Assurance," I say simply with a smile. His face just looks more confused.

"Assurance?" he asks, waiting for me to elaborate.

I take a step closer, bringing us together. I tuck the iPod that's still in my hand into my back pocket and rest my arms on his shoulders, wrapping them loosely around his neck.

I smile up at him, tilting my face closer to his.

"That you love me," I explain quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. His face lights up with a dazzling smile.

"That I most certainly do, Miss Steele," he breathes.

"And I you, Mr. Grey," I purr, pressing my body against his as I tighten my arms around him and bring my lips closer to his. He helps me out and leans down to me so I can kiss him.

I move one of my hands to cradle the side of his face as I kiss him with as much feeling as I can. Sweet, undiluted love sweeps through me – love for this man so strong that it never ceases to knock me senseless. It's almost incomprehensible to me at times that I could experience such a whirlwind of emotions in such a short time. It's scary and exhilarating at the same time.

Finally, I pull back, lowering myself down from my tip toes. He opens his eyes and the unique gray color is even more breathtaking as they shine with adoration. He strokes his fingertips down my cheek momentarily and gives me that shy looking smile. It tugs at my heart in a way that nothing else can. He looks so young when he does that. It's endearing.

My answering smile is immediate.

I gently move my hands to the tops of his shoulders, then, very slowly, I run them both downward, palms flat as they caress down his chest.

I feel his usual response of stiffening and holding his breath momentarily before relaxing slightly.

I run my hands down his sculpted abdomen, feeling the hard muscle underneath, then run my fingertips sideways across his lower belly and hip flexors. I watch as his eyes darken, his pupils dilating, as his expressions heats in response to my touch.

It sends a feeling akin to an electric jolt through me. I'm sure my face isn't very different from his.

"So, Mr. Grey," I murmur. "Ready to play?"

His lips part at my words, and I can feel his body stiffen in a good way. His flawless lips curve into a wicked, salacious grin.

"Definitely. Miss Steele," he almost growls. It's like a hotwire to my libido, kick starting my desire for this all too perfect man.

He wraps an arm around my waist, trailing his hand down my back until he reaches my rear. He slides his hand into my back pocket, squeezing my ass right before snatching the iPod out and bringing it front of him. I had all but forgotten that thing was even in there.

"Let's set the mood shall we?" he offers silkily, backing away from me with a devilish smirk on his face.

I stand, frozen with want as I watch him. He turns on his bare feet and saunters over to the tinted glass where the sound system is. He moves like a slinking panther – predatory and sexy as hell.

I can see every move of his sculpted muscles underneath the skin on his back. My breathing speeds up. What's going to happen this time?

He waves at the glass, making it open, and he uses small, efficient moves as he sets everything up.

All of the erotic thoughts running rampant through my head are suddenly interrupted.

"What's this?" I hear him ask in exaggeration. I feel my brows crease together as he turns his torso halfway around to peer at me with a smirk.

"It would appear that someone has been tampering with my iPod…" he trails off, regarding me with amusement.

"I made you a playlist a little bit ago," I explain in a rush, unable to push much volume out of my lungs. I'm still to busy playing through my x-rated fantasies.

He smiles at me genuinely – as if touched by this small gesture. "Well, Miss Steele, I'm honored. Let's see what we can do with this."

With that, he turns back around.

_Wait…Is he going to play it?_

I stand there for several more seconds, before anything happens. Sure enough, when the surround sound comes to life, I recognize the first notes to one of my favorite songs.

_Ring My Bells _by Enrique Iglesias. It's one the songs I put on there.

He turns lightly on his heel to face me once more. I can feel my excitement move south. God, he hasn't even started yet!

He wears a small smile as the silky voice starts singing lightly through the speakers.

He slinks like a stalking tiger back toward me. My eyes flicker down from his face to his bare torso as I watch the muscles around his hips flexors move with each step.

I meet his eyes once more as he comes to a stop right in front of me.

Without a word, he raises his hand to my face and tugs lightly on my chin, making my release my bottom lip. I didn't realize I was digging my teeth into it until now.

"What do you want to do, Anastasia?" Christian asks heatedly, but still with consideration in his tone.

"Surprise me," I say seductively.

His teeth flash in the dim light, and he gives a curt nod.

"Alright, Miss Steele, if you wish. But first, I think you're a tad overdressed."

Before I can say anything, he reaches for my already undone shorts and belt. Hooking his thumbs inside the waistband, he slowly shimmies them down my hips and lips. I part my legs to help him out. He bends and helps me step out of them, draping them over the back of the couch when he's done.

"Turn around," he orders. I do as I'm told and wheel around, facing the opposite direction.

Immediately, I feel his fingers in my hair, pulling it all behind my back before parting it quickly into three even sections so he can braid it. He secures it with a hair tie, and lets it fall freely down my back. He doesn't release me right away though.

Instead, he trails his fingertips down my neck and onto both of my shoulders, causing a shiver to run through me.

With a feather light touch, he slowly inches my bra straps over my shoulders, letting them fall slack down my arm.

His wandering fingers then change course and both start moving backward over my upper back until he reaches the hook.

Still moving at a leisurely pace, he pops the hook, and releases it, making the bra go slack. I move my arms just enough so that the lacey piece of material falls to the floor in front of me.

I feel Christian move behind me as he bends to pick it up, tossing it over with my shorts.

I suddenly feel his hands on either side of my waist, moving slowly to my front as his arms encircle me.

I lean my head back onto his chest as his hands push across the skin of my stomach, caressing me, loving me.

He bends so his face is pressed into the side of my neck where he starts a procession of slow, sensual kisses, starting from just behind my ear to down over my shoulder.

I sigh and roll my head to the side to give him better access. Suddenly, I feel his teeth against the soft skin of my neck. He nibbles, then bites with more force as he nips at my skin affectionately.

It causes a small moan to escape me.

"Shhh," Christian whispers against my skin, then, unfortunately, releases me. I have to fight the urge to pout. I already want him, and we haven't even started yet.

"This way, Miss Steele," he drawls in way that sends shivers through me.

I turn and follow his lead across the room.

When we come to a stop, we're standing under the grid. I glance up and a wave of anticipation courses through me. I'm already damp between the legs.

"Hands up," Christian says with silky promise in his voice. I comply immediately, keeping my eyes trained on him. He steps forward and reaches up to my wrists. I feel the first cuff go on, but I'm not paying attention. Instead, I'm fixated on his chest which is right in front of my face.

Not being able to resist the temptation, I incline my head forward and plant a soft kiss in the middle of sternum right before skimming my nose down through the soft patch of chest hair, inhaling his delicious scent.

I feel the other cuff click into place, leaving my hands restrained in the air above me as Christian's hands skim quickly over my raised arms and down over my ribs. His fingertips caress my skin with a feather light touch. I pull my face back from his chest so I can look up at him. He gives me a devilish smirk right before stepping back, leaving me wanting more as always.

He crosses his arms across his chest and looks me up and down, evaluating.

"You are one mighty fine sight, Miss Steele," he comments with that wicked grin still on his face.

"You ain't so bad yourself, Sir," I say overtly-sweet, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

He narrows his eyes.

"Are you being smart with me, Anastasia?"

I gasp in mock horror. "Me? Be smart with you? Never, dear Sir," I say in the same tone of voice.

He arches one eyebrow at me and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully.

"Keep it up, Miss Steele, and I'll be forced to gag you," he threatens. Excitement washes over me, going straight toward my groin.

Inspiration hits me. Gags were a soft limit…something we haven't tried before…

"Do it," I whisper before I can stop myself. Suddenly, I want this.

Christian's playfully threatening demeanor changes instantly. He straightens up and his face goes blank with surprise as he cocks his head at me.

"You want me to gag you?" he asks as if confirming what he just heard.

I just nod mutely, my heart rate kicking up a notch.

He takes the two small steps necessary to stand in front of me again. He peers down, studying me.

"You're sure?" he asks barely above the music. I simply nod again. His eyes darken and his expression heats.

"Well, at the very least, it'll keep you from biting this," he says, reaching up to pull my lip out from between my teeth.

"Are you okay with the ball gag I showed you, or do you want me to use something else?"

"Ball gag's fine," I murmur in sweet anticipation. He nods once.

"Well, we aim to please. So, ball gag it is," he mutters darkly, turning at once toward the chest of drawers across the room.

I watch as he leans down to open one of the drawers, reaches in and pulls out what I recognize as the ball gag – leather straps both connected on either side of a sliver ball.

Before turning back around, he opens one more drawer and pulls out a piece of black material. In the dim lighting, it takes me a second to recognize the blindfold.

He turns back around and strides back toward me. Stopping right in front of me, he looks down at me once more, wearing a serious expression.

"Why do you want me to gag you, Ana?" he asks, searching my expression. I frown momentarily. Why must I have a reason every time I want something naughty done to me?

But instead of saying that to him, I go for something that will satisfy his curiosity.

"Because I trust you," I answer honestly. _And because it's hot…_

He smiles briefly and gives a curt nod, lifting the gag in front of me.

"Ready?" he asks. I nod, my eyes trained on the glinting silver in front of my face.

"Alright, baby, open up," he says, moving it closer to me.

I open my mouth almost as wide as it will go, and he pushes the ball in. The silver metal is cold against my tongue and has a thoroughly metallic taste. Working it in, I rest my teeth comfortably over it like he demonstrated for me with his fingers weeks ago.

It really is no where near as bad I thought it would be.

Christian brings his fingers around my head, pulling the leather straps and deftly buckles them together. He pulls them just tight enough so I can't work the ball out but loose enough that it's comfortable.

He pulls back and stares at me with hooded gray eyes. His expression exemplifies sensuality.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

I nod at him, the corners of my lips curving upward around the ball.

"Good," he breathes. "I think you've seen enough."

With that, he lifts the blindfold and slips it over my head, effectively blocking out my vision. Instantly, every thing is heighten and a sliver of thrill shoots through me. I can't move, see, or speak – I'm totally at his mercy. The thought is a major turn on.

"Still okay?" Christian asks. Again, I nod. Without saying anything else, I hear him turn and walk slowly away – the soft patter of his bare feet against the brown wooden floor the only sound I have to go by.

I strain to listen for anything that will give me a clue as to what he's doing. I manage to hear another drawer open followed by a jingling noise, but because of the music playing in the background, it's hard to make much out.

My breathing has picked up with the small spike of adrenaline from being completely helpless, my breaths turning shallow as I drag them in and out between my teeth which are bared around the ball.

I catch some more pattering of feet just before I hear the click of the door, sounding like it opened. The footsteps disappear and the door clicks again.

_Holy shit! Did he just leave me here?!_

My already elevated heart rate picks up a couple more beats. I wait and wait…

After a couple minutes, I'm positive that Christian has left the room. A small pang of panic hits me, but I quell it immediately. I may not know what the hell he's doing, but I know he's not going to let anything happen to me.

Sure enough, a couple of more minutes later, I hear the door once again and the footsteps return just as the song repeats and starts again.

I calm instantly when I know Christian is back. I shift my weight slightly to get more comfortable, causing the chains to rattle a little.

"Still okay?" I hear Christian's disembodied voice ask, much closer than I expected it to be.

"Mmm hmm," I hum in the back of my throat around the ball with a quick nod.

I hear the same small jingling noise I heard before he left, then something else. I instinctively tilt my head to the side as I strain to listen. It sounds almost like tinkling in a glass – like ice water, maybe?

Suddenly, I feel his hands on me, grasping lightly at my hips. I jump automatically, startled.

"Shhh," he soothes, trailing his fingertips across my skin.

While his fingers travel up my sides, his lips make contact with the base of my neck at my left collar bone.

I automatically pull down against the restraints.

"You have no idea how sexy you look like this, Ana," he murmurs against my skin.

I hum in the back of my throat, a subdued version of a small moan that can't push past the gag.

Christian moves his hands to cup my face. He's standing so close that I can feel his body heat radiating toward me. So close, yet so far…

"Because of the restraints and gag, you won't be able to tell me to stop, so I'm going to keep this slow and easy okay? Nothing too rude."

I nod a couple of times to let him know that I understand.

He plants a swift kiss on my forehead before going lower, past my chin to my neck. I roll my head back to give him better access.

Torturously slow, he travels south, leaving a wake of soft, slow kisses in his path until he reaches, first, my left breast. He drags the very tip of his tongue down, taking his sweet time.

He swirls his tongue around, teasing me before closing his mouth around my nipple. I groan low in my throat and pull uselessly against the restraints.

"Shhh," he soothes, momentarily releasing me. I feel his breath hitting my skin before he goes back to his sweet torture. He grazes me with is teeth before pulling back altogether. A moment later, I feel the harsh pinch of a clamp go down on the nipple he just released. It stings with a sweet sensation. A small whimper gets past the gag between my teeth as he turn his attention to other breast, repeating the same process.

With both nipples restrained, his hands rest on my hips as he laves both of them with his tongue again. Everything below my belly button clenches deliciously.

My head lulls back as the chains rattle again due to my instinctive pulling.

Suddenly, he disappears, leaving me panting. Wanting.

I hear the tinkling noise again for a moment before he returns to me, grasping my hips once more.

Out of nowhere, I feel something wet and freezing cold press against the skin in the middle of my chest.

I gasp in shock, sounding like a hiss as it moves around the ball in my mouth, and stiffen. I was right…it was ice water.

Christian keeps the freezing shard presses against my skin as he drags it down over my sternum. Immediately, it begins to melt, making cool droplets of water stream down my feverish skin. The feeling is exquisite.

Both of Christian's hands tighten on my hips to keep me still, making me realize that he must be holding the ice between his teeth.

The thought has an affect on my groin.

_God, I wish I could see him right now._

Skating the ice cube down, he comes to a stop at the first nipple that he restrained. Very gently, he runs the quickly melting chip over my nipple, causing it to harden further and lengthen.

I bite down on the ball between my teeth, not knowing what else to do as he moves on to the next one.

When that one has had enough attention as well, the ice and Christian's hands disappear again.

I hear more tinkling before another cube presses between my breasts and moves down, the melted drops of water racing down across my skin before dripping off onto the floor.

Moving from my sternum to my upper stomach, Christian suddenly gives a gentle tug on the clamps, making them sting with a sweet pain.

I moan, the sound not getting past my throat and toss my head back, relishing the sensation.

He moves the ice down until he hits my navel, where he lightly pushes the ice inside before pulling back completely once more.

By now, I'm on fire, aching because I'm so turned on. I'm dying to call his name, beg him, but because of the gag, I can't. It makes this all the more frustrating, but in a tolerable, even enjoyable, way.

I expect to hear more tinkling in the glass, but I don't. Instead, I'm startled when I feel my restraints pulling me upward, lifting my weight off of my feet and onto my arms.

I hum in the back of my throat, a worried sound now. My thoughts flicker to a conversation we had in the Heathman dinning room concerning one particular hard limit.

"It's okay, baby," I hear Christian's voice right by my ear. "I'm not going to suspend you. I just need some of your weight supported."

His reassurance makes me relax immediately as he mysteriously reads my mind.

I feel the chains go up one more notch, then stop. Now, I'm standing on the balls of my feet, most of my weight being supported by the restraints. I wiggle around slightly, getting adjusted. It's not uncomfortable – just different.

I feel even more helpless now because there's no longer any slack in my arms. They're pulled tight and immobile.

Luckily, the cuffs at my wrists are nice and wide, spreading the pressure point over a decent area instead of having two thinner metal cuffs that would be digging into my skin.

Now, I hear more tinkling and a little shuffling noise in front on me. As if on cue, the song which was set on repeat hits the climax of the music. Christian's thumbs suddenly appear on the side of my hips, sliding into the waistband of my panties. Slowly, he works them down my legs, letting them hit the floor at my toes.

I feel Christian's hand skim down the back of my left leg. When he reaches the back of my knee, he pulls forward, making me bend my knee as he lifts it forward and drapes it over his shoulder as he apparently kneels on the floor before me. Using his other hand, he does the same thing with my right leg until both of my calves are resting down his back and all of my weight his now on my arms.

Turning his face to the side, he stars kissing the inside of my left thigh. I can feel the stubble of his unshaved face against the sensitive skin there. It almost tickles.

Everything in me tightens as he gets higher. But of course, he stops just short of where I'm yearning for him to be. I groan once more in frustration and tighten my jaw on the ball.

My mouth has gone bone dry from the quick, shallow breaths I'm pulling in, and because I can't close my mouth, I can't let the saliva remoisten my tongue and cheeks.

Christian starts kissing up my right leg, in a painfully unhurried pace. Again, he stops less than an inch from my soaking sex.

I hear tinkling again momentarily before he turns his attention back to me. He grabs the outsides of my thighs and pulls them father apart, making me clench in anticipation.

Suddenly, I feel his tongue on me there. Surprisingly, his tongue is chilled, apparently due to the cold water.

I whimper, feeling the ball vibrate in my mouth in response. He lavishes his icy mouth on me, teasing my clitoris. Just when his tongue starts to warm up, it disappears, leaving me literally hanging.

I want to kick him using one of the legs draped over him, but I don't. Instead, I heave a garbled huff.

"Patience, Miss Steele," I hear him mutter from the floor just before more tinkling.

Again, he holds my legs as he brings his mouth back to me. But this time, I feel something much colder.

I jerk immediately in response to the ice now lightly grazing the hyper sensitized flesh there. He pauses, removing the ice for a second before doing it again. This time isn't so bad. A low moan sound in the back of my throat and my legs tighten where they rest on his back.

I can feel his lips where they're wrapped around the cube as it quickly melts. With two more harder strokes, Christian removes the ice again. I hear a loud crunching sound as he apparently chews the remainder of the ice and swallows.

Bringing his face to me once more, I again feel his tongue, colder than the first time start licking me again. I'm practically trembling by now, and not from the chill. The chill only adds to the heat I feel rising in me, making my skin flush.

Christian closes his lips around my clit, teasing it slightly with his teeth just as he moves one hand from my leg to tug again on the nipple clamps.

And that's it. I expire, unable to take anymore, finally getting my sweet release. I come, tossing my head back and pushing out as much volume as the gag will allow. Still on the floor, Christian removes his mouth and quickly release one, then the other nipple from the clamp.

It only adds to the height of my orgasm, making my nipples surge with the sweetest feeling.

I sag useless against the chains, my head lolling forward and my chin resting on my chest. I'm knocked senseless as I recover my senses.

I vaguely feel Christian move my feet back onto the floor as he stands. Suddenly, his hands are at the back of my head, tugging at the leather buckle. The gag goes slack, but it takes me a long second before I have enough wits to realize I need to release it from my mouth. Opening my mouth, the metal ball immediately falls out and disappears. I lift my head with a little effort, and automatically flex my jaw, ridding the joints of the stiffness that has set in.

I swirl my tongue around a little, trying to kick start my saliva glands. My mouth is bone dry – it's actually very uncomfortable. I feel like I haven't drank in a week. Suddenly, Christian's arm is around my waist and the blindfold disappears from my head. I blink several times before the room and the gorgeous man before me come back into focus.

"Hi," he murmurs silkily with a small smile on his lips.

"Hi," I manage to croak.

"Here," he says, producing the clear glass of ice water which is dripping condensation by now. He puts the cool rim up to my parched lips and tilts it. I take it eagerly, gulping down two huge swallows of the refreshing liquid before I pull back. My mouth feels much better now.

"Wrap you're legs around me, baby," Christian says softly, setting the glass to the side somewhere. I do as I'm told, resting my head against the crook of his shoulder which is right in front of me. Holding me securely to him with one arm, he reaches up with the other and deftly unlatches the cuffs.

Immediately, one, then other, wrist comes free. I move them to wrap around Christian, wincing a little when they resist the movement because of the stiffness.

Holding me to him, Christian walks me over to the huge bed and lowers me onto the satin. The cool sheets feel amazing against my overheated skin.

"Turn on your front," Christian says quietly. I comply, rolling farther onto the bed and resting on my stomach.

I feel him crawl up beside me before his hands grasp my shoulders. His strong fingers massage all remnants of stiffness away, bringing the blood back into my arms.

I feel a slight tug on my hair, then his fingers slide through the length down my back, gently pulling the braid out.

I turn my face to peek up at him. He smiles down at me, and strokes my cheek with his fingertip.

I roll once more until I'm on my back.

"How was that?" he asks.

"Perfect," I respond honestly. His answering smile is dazzling. I feel like I need sunglasses to look at it.

Just then, the song starts over once more, bringing it to both or attentions. He glances over at the sound system.

"I like this song," he comments.

"Me too," I grin at him. "That's why I put it on there."  
"So, you made me a playlist?" he asks conversationally. I nod, moving my head up and down against the satin sheet.

"What else is on there?" he asks, sounding truly interested.

"Well, why don't you find out yourself, Mr. Grey?" I say.

He smiles and shifts slightly so he can reach the remote in the back pocket of those sexy as fuck jeans he's still wearing. Pulling it out, he hits a button and the next song starts playing.

_Something Right _by Chelsea Lankes and Will Anderson.

My face sweeps up into a huge grin. Perfect lovemaking music.

"Good playlist for our wedding night…wherever it is…" I trail, questioning. He gives me an 'oh-no-you-don't look.

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself, Miss Steele," he says sexily, dipping his head to plant a soft kiss on my lips.

"I'm not interested in getting ahead, Mr. Grey," I say simply. "Just on top."

With that, I push against his chest, making him roll off of his side and onto his back. I move with him, pushing up onto my knees as I straddle him.

He chuckles, shaking gently underneath me. I grin down at him, enjoying the sound, just before silencing his lips with mine.

**A/N: Well, guys..What did ya think? Did I do it justice? Leave me a review and lemme know. I love hearing what you have to say. **

** I have two more chapters coming for ya, and I'll get them up ASAP. But bear with me, cause my life is a tad hectic right now so I'm having to scram to find time to write. **

** One last thing…if you've never heard the two songs I mentioned in this chapter, then go RIGHT NOW and listen to them…they're amazing! And yes, I know, ****_Something Right _****just came out (2013) and this story is supposedly in 2011…oh well…who cares…it fits Ana and Christian's story perfectly so I used it anyways!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Okay, guys…Next chapter! First of all, A special shout out goes to rileygreyson and Foggynights…u guys really inspired me with ur sweet PMs to hurry my ass up and get this chapter going! Thanks! This is for you!**

**And I have to give a HUGE thanks to all of you who have followed, faved, and of course reviewed! Ur support means the world to me! **

** Anyways, logically, I think this conversation would have happened closer to the end of Fifty Shades Darker instead of right before Fifty Shades Freed, but this was the only place in my story that it could go and I really wanted it in here….I hope u like it! ENJOY!**

"I can't believe you're getting married tomorrow," Kate says from beside me.

"Well, that makes two of us," I respond as we saunter across the room.

"Mia and Mrs. Grey did an amazing job with the set up," she says, taking another sip from her champagne glass.

"That's an understatement," I say fervently.

Everything's been set up for the ceremony and reception for tomorrow in the back yard. The huge white marquee that was used for the Coping Together gala has been set back up, and, if you ask me, looks even more beautiful. But of course – I'm biased.

"Are you all packed up?" she asks.

"Yeah…" I say uncertainly with a grimace.

Kate picks up on my expression right away.

"Frustrating isn't it? Not knowing where you're going?' she says understandingly.

"Beyond frustrating," I say. "He knows I hate surprises, so I really don't get why he's doing this."

"Well, you know Mia and I have both tried to help. I even had Elliot pump him for information, but he isn't saying anything. I don't even think Grace knows."

"She doesn't – I already asked," I admit a little sheepishly.

Kate trills a laugh. "Well, you'll know soon enough. You've waited six weeks, so what's one more night? Besides – you have to admit, it's kind of romantic."

I grin down into my glass. My hearts and flowers man…

"Where is the lucky groom anyways?" she suddenly asks, looking around us.

"He's out back talking to Carrick. You know – having some father/son time," I say.

Suddenly, we're interrupted by one rather boisterous, blonde teddy bear of a man.

"How're the bride and maid of honor doing?" he asks, walking up from behind us.

I wheel around to see Elliot's infectious grin and twinkling blue eyes regarding me with affection. I can't help but smile back – his enthusiasm is almost childlike and very heartwarming.

"We're good. Still talking about how good your best man's speech was," I commend, raising my eyebrows at him. Christian and I had been holding our breath, not knowing what would come out of Elliot's mouth. He's nothing if not unpredictable.

However, he surprised all of us – actually brought tears to almost every woman's eyes in the room, while keeping his signature Elliot humor, of course.

Elliot just beams, highly pleased with my praise, as he drapes his arm over Kate's shoulder.

"So, you planning you're epic escape yet?" he asks with a wily grin. I give him a sour look.

"Elliot," Kate playfully chides, slapping him harmlessly on the arm.

"Uh, hardly," I say.

"You sure? Cause if you're having second thoughts, I would be glad to help out. I can provide a wicked diversion when necessary."  
I arch a speculative eyebrow at him. "Oh, I don't doubt that," I say sincerely. "But I don't think we'll need it this time, Elliot."

"Whatever you say," he says, shrugging.

"Well, by the way, I wouldn't be talking like that. As the best man, it's your job to make sure Christian's standing up there by the time I walk down the aisle – not helping an escape plan," I tell him.

"Oh, don't worry about that, Ana. Christian's gunna be up there – with or without me," he says sincerely.

My face splits in two with a grin as I picture it. Christian standing at the altar with the reverend as I slowly make my way to him on Ray's arm. Childish excitement washes over me.

"Besides," Elliot adds with a sly smile. "It seems like you're pretty invaluable to him – what with answering his calls now and everything."

I flush a shade of pink with his words.

That call I answered and hung up on Sunday just before dragging Christian into the playroom wasn't a business call like I'd thought…It was Elliot. And of course, he's done everything to milk it, guessing full on the real reason behind me answering; although, we had claimed that Christian had been in the shower and left his phone with me, he wasn't buying it.

My eyes cut away from his teasing face to across the room. I catch sight of Grace talking to Heather, a good friend of hers who helped with the rehearsal dinner and who is catering the wedding.

As if sensing my gaze she glances up and meets my eyes. She smiles and gestures for me to come over.

I excuse myself from Kate and Elliot and saunter over to my soon-to-be mother-in-law who has lapsed back into animated conversation with the caterer.

When I approach, Grace halts whatever she is saying to turn her attention to me, giving me a broad smile.

"Ana, good you're here. Now, would please tell Heather that she did just fine setting up the menu for tomorrow?" she asks good naturedly, pretending to look exasperated.

I turn to give the tiny red headed woman a reassuring smile.

"Everything's amazing. I love it," I tell her sincerely. She returns my smile gratefully.  
"Are you sure I didn't go to overboard on the seafood options?" she asks.

"No. It's perfect. You couldn't have done better," I tell her.

"See?" Grace says dramatically. "I told you so. Jeez, for as much success that you've had in this town, you'd think you would have more confidence in your work, Heather."

Heather just gives a small shrug and an almost shy smile. The gesture warms her to me immediately.

"You know how I am, Grace. I just want to make sure I'm doing exactly what people want," she responds, taking a sip of champagne.

I do the same as Grace makes more conversation.

"So, I hear you landed the Wesley's big Fourth of July event. How did that go?" she asks.

Heather gives her a dramatic martyred expression.

"It went okay in the end, but trust me, it wasn't easy. I don't think I'll agree to do that again. Mrs. Wesley is a tyrant," she says fervently, making Grace trill a laugh.

"Oh, you don't have to tell me. Thankfully, she's stopped coming to most of our events. I don't mean to be nasty, but the woman really is a piece of work," Grace concedes, getting a nod from Heather.

Because I have no idea who they're talking about, I just stand politely and listen to the small talk, enjoying the easy light heartedness.

"So, any other big deals lined up for the summer?" Grace asks her. Heather raises her eyes to ceiling, thinking for a moment.

"Nothing too big. This event is really the biggest thing on my calendar so far," she says with a sip of her drink before going on. "Though, the business dinner for Mrs. Lincoln is supposed to be pretty sizable."

I splutter on the champagne I just sipped, trying to cover it with a small cough. My eyes immediately dart to Grace. Her face has gone to stone at the mention of the woman who we both agreeably hate.

Luckily, Mrs. Grey has enough social practice and grace to keep trucking through, though much cooler now.

"Really? Well I forgot about that," she says smoothly, her demeanor shifting from warm and carefree to guarded and stiff.

"Have you talked to Elena much?" Heather suddenly asks, apparently not picking up Grace's body language. Maybe it's just obvious to me because I expect it – knowing the cause behind it. "Apparently no one's really heard much of her. I was talking to Roy the other day who mentioned that. He was wondering if everything was alright with her."

Grace takes a long drought of alcohol before answering. I hold my breath.

"No. I haven't heard from her," Grace says stiffly. "She sort of made a scene at my son's birthday last month, so we're not exactly on friendly terms."

Heather's eyebrows lift just a little in response.

"Oh. I didn't realize," she says, sounding apologetic. "Guess it doesn't surprise me. Elena always has struck me as the more confrontational type." I take that as a very nice way of saying she thinks Elena is a bitch.

Yep, I do like this woman.

But despite her kind enough words, Grace still looks like she just swallowed something highly unpleasant and is fighting the urge to hurl it back up. A swell of empathy rises in me, and before I can even think about it, I look pointedly at her and say, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just remembered that there were a couple things I wanted to talk to you about – get your opinion before I left tonight."

Grace looks at me with surprise at first when I started speaking, but then it very quickly turns to straight gratitude.

"Oh, okay," she says brightly, already recovering her better mood at the chance to escape. "Heather would you excuse us. You know how it is…wedding stuff never ends, right up to the moment before she walks down the aisle."

"Absolutely," Heather says kindly. "I'll be seeing you both. And I'm glad you liked everything Ana. Let me know if there's anything else I can do."

"I will, thank you," I tell her sincerely just before turning and gesturing for Grace to follow me into the dining area – for show so that Heather will see and not catch on that what I said was a complete façade.

Grace and I both walk silently over to big dining room. She goes in, moving stiffly and not saying a word.

When she crosses the doorway, I turn and shut the ornate door of the room, giving us some privacy. I can tell she wants a minute to recover her good graces.

When the door clicks shut, I turn and keep silent as she walks around the table. She hardly seems to know I'm here as she slowly pulls out a chair and lowers into it, setting her champagne glass down on the table.

Just as I think I should step out and give her a moment to herself, she speaks.

"Thank you, Ana," she says fervently.

She glances up to make eye contact, and I see nothing but sincerity in her face. I give her an understanding smile and a small shrug.

"I did it just as much for you as I did for me," I tell her, taking a couple steps away from the door, ensuring nothing is overheard. "I don't want to hear about her anymore than you do. Trust me."

She huffs out a big sigh, leaning against the edge of the table and running her pinkie over the rim of her glass. I pause momentarily before I walk hesitantly and take a seat lightly right across from her.

"What did I do wrong?" she murmurs very quietly, sounding like she's talking more to herself than to me. In fact, she seems barely aware that I'm here.

My brows knit together. What on earth is she talking about?

As of she can sense my confusion, she turns her eyes slowly back to me with a doleful expression on her soft face.

"I've known right from the start that Christian had problems, and I knew it wasn't going to be easy helping him get through them, but this?" she asks. "I don't understand what I did wrong to make him think that he-,"

"Grace," I interrupt swiftly once I see where she's going with this. I lean toward her from across the table with enthusiasm. "You did nothing wrong."

She offers me a kind smile and sigh. "But how did I not see it, Ana?" she asks, sounding as if she's been dying to know the answer. "One of my closest friends preyed on my son – my little boy," her voice breaks slightly as she goes on. "for six years. _Six years! _I'm his mother for God sake – how did I not know?"

Tears have sprung up in her eyes. The sight tugs on my heart. In the short time that I've known Grace, I've come to love her as my own mother. She's one of the sweetest people I've ever met – her and Carrick both. Plus, I owe her everything for being the reason that I have Christian.

So seeing her sitting here and beating herself up over this, breaks my heart. Especially when I know full well the pain caused by this situation.

I push away from the table and move around it until I'm right in front of her. I take out another chair and pull it up to hers, facing her.

I level her a very serious look.

"Grace, you cannot blame yourself. What they did - No, what _that god-awful woman _did is not your fault. You're a mom, Grace – not God. You can't expect yourself to be omniscient – to know everything, especially when you had two other kids to look after on top of a full time job. And I may not know all of the details, but I would bet everything I own and could borrow that both of them did everything in their power for you not to find out. What happened, is no one's fault but Elena's," I spit put the last word, literally having to stop myself from just saying "bitch troll's". I would if I knew Grace wasn't so proper.

She sighs again, tears still in her eyes. "Thank you," she says, looking like she's suddenly thinking about something. "Has you told you much about it?" she asks tentatively.

I stiffen fractionally, knowing how much of it she's still in the dark about.

"A little," I concede. "From the moment he told me, I've tried to get him to see it for what it was, but it hasn't really done anything to change his point of view."

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"Well, from what I've been told, Christian was having problems around that time. He was hurting, and confused, and she used that knowledge to take advantage of him. She exploited him. And, quite honestly, I think she did him untold damage, but Christian's convinced that she helped him – that she's the reason he straightened up and started working toward success."

The pain on Grace's face is palpable, sending shoots of my own pain through me – both for her and Christian. Despite what he may think, I know that what happened with Elena was _not _in his best interest.

"Where did I go wrong in raising him to make him think that way though?" she asks, going back to blaming herself again.

"You didn't Grace. Elena did that – not you," I tell her firmly. "Up until his birthday, Elena had her hooks in him so deep that nothing anyone said would make him believe anything negative about her. At least now, he sees her as the spiteful, uncaring person she is for the things she said to me."

"When I think about she did to my son-," she breaks off, her voice catching with emotion.

"I know," I acknowledge. "Believe me, I hate her just as much as you do, Grace. In fact, I'm pretty sure she tried to sabotage mine and Christian's relationship pretty early on. She's nothing more than a manipulative bitch, and to be quite honest, I'm kind of jealous of you for getting to smack her. I can't tell you how often I've fantasized about doing it myself."

I offer her a wry smile, trying to lighten the mood just a smidge with the little piece of information.

He lips curve slightly and she look at me with gratitude.

After a moment, I give her another serious look, leaning slightly forward to make sure she listens to what I have to say.

"So with all of this being said, Grace, please stop blaming yourself. It was in no way your fault. Only Elena can be blamed for what happened," I tell her.

She nods slowly, absorbing my words so I go on. "I know you've been amazing mother to all three of your kids, and you don't deserve to beat yourself up over this. I know Christian would tell you the same thing. He absolutely adores you, Grace, and wouldn't have you thinking this anymore than I would."

A few tears leak out which she quickly brushes away.

"Thank you, Ana," she says fervently.

"Anytime," I answer with a bright smile.

"I'm so glad he found you," she says, looking at me as if I'm some sort of rare artifact. "You're so good for him – you make him happy."

I smile, feeling my own swell of emotion springing up. "Trust me, that goes both ways."

We sit quietly for several long moments, just enjoying the companionable silence, and taking in the bonding moment. I smile to myself, thinking how lucky I am to not only get Christian but his family as well. In many ways, they're already like my family with the way they've completely opened their arms to me.

At least I'll never have to complain about not getting along with the in-laws.

Before either of us can say anything else, the door suddenly open, and Mia's dark head appears.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says with an apologetic smile.

"It's okay," I quickly respond. "I was just telling Grace how happy I am to be marrying into such a wonderful family."

Okay, so maybe I didn't say it, but I was at least thinking it…

I turn to give Grace a happy grin which she returns with gratitude for my little cover.

"And I'm so happy to be getting a sister," Mia exclaims as she comes further into the room. "Growing up with two older brothers has been challenging." She rolls her eyes good-naturedly, making me laugh.

"Oh, stop, Mia," Grace says lightly, recovering her bearings as we both get to our feet. "You and Christian were inseparable growing up. And both of them are crazy about you."

"I know. I know," Mia concedes, holding up her hands. "They're just so – so…Well, they're just such _guys. _So now I have a sister I can do the girl things with too."

She beams at me happily as I come to stand in front of her.

"Don't forget Kate," I remind her. The Grey clan has welcomed both Kavanaughs just as warmly as they did me.

I think briefly about the possibility of Kate becoming a Grey too. The thoughts excites me profoundly.

In her bubbly little moment, Mia suddenly remembers her purpose for coming in here to begin with.

"Oh, hey. You're mom was looking for a minute ago," she tells me.

"Okay. I'll go find her," I tell her.

"Kay. Laters, I gotta go find Ethan," she says then darts back out with another word. I shake my head fondly and turn back to Grace.

"You okay?" I ask softly.

She nods and smiles reassuringly at me. "Thanks to you, yes."

I blush a little and smile at her just before I turn to leave through the open door.

After looking around the room several moments, i finally locate my mom standing in the living room and talking to Kate who is without Elliot at the moment.

When I walk up, she turns her attention to me.

"Hey, honey. I was wondering where you were. Did you sneak off with Christian?" she asks, giving me a knowing look. Kate chuckles beside her.

I blush pink at her insinuation. My mom's been married four times, so she's at least been around the block enough to make a pretty good guess as to why both the groom and bride are MIA at the rehearsal dinner. The thought makes me automatically glance around the room, looking for Christian.

When I come up empty, I assume he's still off talking to Carrick.

"No, I answer, turning my eyes back to my mother. "I was talking to Grace for a minute. Why? Do need something?"

"Well," she says. "Bob wasn't feeling well, so he left a little bit ago to the hotel. And it's getting kind of late, so I was wondering if you minded I go ahead and call it a night. I want to make sure he's okay."

"Sure, Mom. It's fine," I tell her. "One of the security team will take you."

"Are you sure?" she asks, sounding a tad guilty.

"Positive."

"Okay. And you shouldn't be too much longer either. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow," she says, grinning broadly at me.

"I know. I just want to get a little more time in with Christian, then I'll be on my way," I tell her.

"Don't worry, Carla. I'll make sure she's there in plenty time to get her beauty sleep," Kate chimes in with a wink at me.

With that, my mom says a couple more goodbyes and is out the door, leaving me and Kate together again.

"Hey, have you seen Christian?" I ask, turning to her.

"He and Carrick are in the study. Elliot went in to join them a little bit ago," she answers. I nod, unable to contain the smile spreading across my face. Perfect.

"Okay, good. Come here. I need you to do something for me," I tell her, leading her to where my coat and purse hang on a peg by the front door. I dig through for a moment and pull out a small, white envelope, already sealed and ready to go.

I hand it to her. "As soon as you can, I need you to give this to Christian," I tell her as she takes it.

Her brows crease together. "Why? What is it? Why don't you just give it to him yourself?"

I grin at her. "It's a surprise. And I need your help to do it."

Her face lights up. "What are you up to, Steele?" she asks with suspicion.

I just grin wider. "Giving my groom a memorable night," I say slyly. She laughs.

"Okay. Okay. I don't wanna know. Yes, I'll give it to him," she says.

"Good. I'll see you later. When I wrap this up, we'll head over to the Olympic," I tell her just as turn on my heel and dash across the room.

I slide through the glass doors, leading out back. Shutting it quietly, I head to my destination, walking across the huge lawn. I peek over to the huge marquee, now standing in darkness since the lights were cut out when everyone came inside after dinner. The sight fills my stomach with butterflies.

_Fourteen hours and I will be Mrs. Christian Grey._

I want to jump and down and squeal like a kid because of the excitement at the thought. Instead, though, I continue to hurry down to the dock, well lit with the beaming moonlight.

I briefly hope it's not too long before Christian gets the note I passed to Kate.

At the end of the dock, I slip off my shoes and perch myself on the edge of the wood, letting my feet dip into the cool water.

I sit back on my hands and settle in to wait for my groom so we can say goodbye to our single days together.

**A/N: Ooh! So wut do you think her plans for Christian are? Stick around and you'll find out! In the meantime, lemme know wut u think of this chapter. Stayed up all night writing it, so imma pass out now!  
**

**PS- For those of you who haven't already...you should read "It's Gonna Hurt" but Hard Pouncing. It takes our fav couple here down a slightly different path that is beyond entertaining! It's truly a capturing story that has been written by someone who has amazing talent. I am TOTALLY hooked on it! **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Okay, first of all…I am SO sorry it's taken over a month for me to update the last chapter! My life got so beyond crazy! I was out of town a lot and barely had access to my laptop let alone enough time to write. It's finally slowed back down so I could finish this thing!**

**Thank you guys so much for ur patience! I hope this is worth the wait!**

I take a deep breath of the moist night air, stilling waiting for Christian. He should be here any minute now. At least I hope so. I don't have too much time before I'll need to be leaving for the Olympic with Kate.

Still leaning back on my hands, I lift my eyes to the inky black sky. Surprisingly, it's clear enough out that I can make out most of the constellations, the twinkling stars burning from light years away.

I bring my left hand up from the dock and hold it closer to my face, examining the now-familiar ring adorning it. Just like the stars, it gives off its own glimmer in the muted light of the full moon and the small light that is shining around the corner of the boathouse.

I stare at it, thinking that maybe I'll wake up any second now. Wake up from this amazing dream that has been the past six weeks. It still seems too good to be true.

An indescribable feeling akin to a physical warmth floods through me, feeling like it's literally coming straight from my heart as I contemplate what the next 24 hours hold for me.

This is officially my last night as Miss Anastasia Rose Steele. Tomorrow, the world will recognize me as Mrs. Anastasia Rose Grey.

_Mrs. Grey._

I almost feel like crying tears of joy at the strength of emotions the thought provokes. And that's just the next day. I can't even fathom the foreseeable future we have ahead of us.

I'm not naive by any means. I realize that life with Christian - well hell, _any _married life with _anyone_ – won't always be easy. I'm fully aware that we'll have our bad days. We already have them. But I know that I'd rather have the hard and rocky days with my Fifty than all the perfect days in the world with anyone else.

No matter what, I know we can get through anything. Even with his controlling, domineering, and mercurial ways.

There's no one else I can imagine wanting to be with.

I'm so absorbed in all of my thoughts that it nearly scares the living hell out of me when I hear a voice very close behind me. I hadn't even known I wasn't alone anymore.

"Expecting someone?" he asks. I snap my head around, bringing Christian's looming figure into view.

He wears a small smile of amusement as he peers down at me. I grin with pleasure.

"Well, not anymore – now that you're here," I reply, and he smiles that heartbreaking grin, making my heart stutter.

He says nothing as he takes a couple of more steps forward to the end of the dock where he proceeds to slip off his Dockers, with his socks following right behind. With one fluid movement, he lowers himself down next to me, pulling his pants legs up and dipping his feet into the water with mine.

"Took you long enough," I note, snuggling comfortably into him. "Was starting to think I was going to have to start without you."

He chuckles, his chest vibrating with the sound. "Start what exactly?"

I grin to myself, knowing he can't see me. "I never reveal my plans, Mr. Grey. You should know this by now," I jab harmlessly. Truth be told, I don't have any _plans _per se. For the most part, I'm winging this, making it up as I go.

I feel his lips move against the top of my head. "Well, sorry. I came as soon as I could. I just got done talking to my dad when Kate delivered your note upon detaining me further," he says.

Immediately, I assume the worst. Kate and Christian's relationship has never exactly been one of affection. Thankfully, by his tone, it doesn't seem like she's pissed him off too bad, whatever she did.

"Kate? What did she do?" I ask, moving to look up at him so I gauge his expression. To my eyes, I see no trace of anger, or even annoyance for that matter – only the same light, happy glimmer I've been seeing all night. The look that is an exact reflection of mine.

"What she does best apparently," he says cryptically. "Speaking her mind."

_Uh oh. This can't be good._

"What did she say?" I ask, feeling a little panicky. Surely Kate didn't choose tonight of all nights to make a scene.

Christian merely laughs lightly – rather over what Kate said or my reaction, I'm not sure.

"Just giving me congratulations," he says easily, taking me totally off-guard.

O-key…wasn't expecting to hear that. Kate? Giving Christian congradulations? Kate? Saying anything nice to Christian at all? Whoa.

Through my confusion, I can't help bust ask, "Kate?" as if he may be talking about some other Kate – like some distant relative I didn't know was here.

"The very same," Christian clarifies.

A small laugh escapes me as I try to picture that scene. "What was that like?"

"Life changing," he swears, exaggerating – probably due to my shocked reaction.

I giggle despite myself, loving the carefree, playful mood he's been in all night. I wish I could just freeze tonight, live in it forever. But then, again, I wouldn't be able to experience tomorrow – actually getting to marry this man.

"Music to my ears," he says contentedly my hair on the top of my head.

"So what did Carrick have to say?" I ask, swirling one of my feet around in the water, causing a ripple effect. I feel him shrug slightly against me.

"Just the normal father of the groom talk, I suppose," he says. "Giving me advice and telling me how happy he is for me."

A small frown plays on my lips – probably the first I've worn all night – at this. I know it's irrational, but I can't help it. The mention of Carrick being truly happy Christian marrying me brings up the memory of his advising Christian to have a prenup.

Logically, I know I shouldn't take offense – that it really has nothing to do with me personally – but I still cant help the tiny little twinge of worry that any of family thinks I'm marrying Christian for his money.

I know that's what the rest of the world thinks, but I couldn't really care less about them at the point. But to have anyone in either side of our family think that hurts.

But as always, I remind myself that Carrick is a lawyer, meaning he sees everything from a legal standpoint, it's only his way of protecting Christian – and how can I be upset about that? It's what is to be expected. Plus, it's not like I care anyway about a damn prenup. I told Christian I would sign anything. It's he who absolutely refuses to even talk about it.

The thought gives a very small sense of satisfaction. In some weird way, it's good to know that Christian and trusts me completely.

As I continue to go through my rambling thoughts, Christian goes on, "Plus, he gave me a few recommendations on places to visit for the honeymoon."

This grabs my interest, dispelling all remnants of thoughts of pre-marital agreements and any type of signed contracts at all.

"Oh really? Care to share?" I ask in my most coxing voice. Well, apparently, it's not as effective as I thought.

"Oh no, Miss Steele. You know the rules. Not a peep until you and I have said 'I do'," he chides playfully, his statement sending flutters through my stomach yet again.

I let out a dramatic huff. "Fine," I reply sullenly.

He laughs lightly. "Always so eager for information."

"Yeah. Not that you give me any," I retort good-naturedly.

"Now, you know that's not true," he murmurs, his voice taking on a more serious twinge. "You know more than anybody else has or ever will." My heart melts. _Oh my dear sweet Fifty Shades. _

"Yeah," I reply just as quietly. "I do know that."

He doesn't respond. Instead, he just pulls me tighter against him, holding me there as we sit in silence, listening to the sound of the lapping water.

"I can't wait till tomorrow," he finally says. "You'll finally be mine."

"I'm already yours, Christian," I rely, rolling my eyes into the darkness.

"I know you're rolling your eyes at me, Miss Steele," he says lightly with humor. "And yes, maybe, but I mean legally. Officially. For all who have any doubts about it to know for sure that…" He kisses the side of my head, saying in between kisses, "You. Are. Mine."

I grin, feeling the rush of pleasure run through me at the idea. I grab his left hand which is resting on my left leg as his right arm surround me and holds me to him. I trace my finger over where his silver wedding band will be by this time tomorrow.

A feeling that can only be described as triumph flares from deep within me.

"And you're mine," I say quietly, almost talking to myself as I play with his left ring finger and not being able to wait to get that ring on there – proving to everybody (particularly women) that my man, is in fact, taken.

"Yours," I more feel than hear him say into my hair. A shiver runs through me though it's more than warm outside.

"Can't believe I get three whole weeks – just us," I think aloud.

"Sounds like my definition of heaven on earth."

"Hmm," I murmur in agreement, followed by, "Goodbye single days." I sigh with satisfaction.

I feel and hear Christian release a little huff, a sound akin to disbelief.

"I never thought I would see the day," he says, sounding like he's talking more to himself than me. "Me – getting married."

"Already feeling the ball and chain, huh?" I tease lightheartedly at his tone.

Christian snorts. "Hardly," he says, sighing and nuzzling his nose into my hair. "In fact, I've never felt freer in my entire life."

I pull back just enough so I can raise my face to look up him. The utter sincerity and love that radiates from his eyes is enough to cause a little lump in my throat.

"You've liberated me, Ana," he says softly, bringing his hand up to caress the side of my face.

The only answer I can come up with is, "I love you."

He smiles and skims his hand down my face, all the way down to my arm until he reaches my hand – which he takes in his and lifts to his chest, placing my palm flat against his heart.

"I love you too," he says, pressing his hand over mine. I can feel the steady rhythm of his heart against my palm – a strong, rhythmic beat.

Keeping my hand there, I shift my weight so I'm leaning closer to him, and incline my face to his. He responds by leaning down, brushing his nose against mine just before our lips meet. Starting out sweet and slow, the kiss is quick to deepen. His right arm snakes around my waist, encircling me and pulling me into him. I practically melt into his embrace as our tongues collide, causing my pulse to quicken and my skin to heat.

Instinctively, I move my hand out from underneath his where it rests on his chest and wind my arms around him, one hand coming to rest at the base of his neck and the other pushing into his hair.

He presses me even closer to him as his other hand drops down to my waist, but doesn't hesitate in trailing upward. The thin material of the my dress hardly offers any barrier between my skin and his expert caress as it travels farther north, teasing as it goes – before finally coming to rest over my breast. His palm hovers for just a moment before pressing into me.

My halter top dress has no bra underneath so the touch is uninhibited, causing my breath to come in a small gasp followed by a muffled moan as he gives a gentle squeeze. Unfortunately, my rational mind decides now to overpower my instinctual lust. I pull away slightly, still breathless.

"Christian," I whisper quickly. "We agreed." I try to inject some admonishment into the small reminder. He groans ever so quietly with obvious frustration. Mercifully, though, he drops his hand.

"I know," he huffs as he runs the hand he just removed from my chest through his disheveled copper locks.

"It was _your _idea," I point out a tad sourly, referring to his left field suggestion that we apt for abstinence for at least a full day before our wedding. Or more specifically, our wedding _night. _

"I know," he repeats as he gives me a sideways glance and a sardonic smile. "Starting wonder what the hell I was thinking."

"You were thinking," I clarify, recalling his exact explanation. "That a little anticipation never killed anybody."

I pause, a slow smile curving my lips as push into him again, resting one hand on the middle of thigh while the other moves back around his neck. "That a little frustration," I add in a lower, slower voice. "Will make it all the better." I speak the last sentence slowly, moving my hand on his leg up ever so slightly with my words.

He groans again. "You're trying to kill me."

I smile wider as I stop my teasing and simply put the other arm around his neck as well. "Not my intention at all, Mr. Grey," I disagree lightly, brushing my lips over his. His bright gray eyes narrow into slits.

"You're a natural born seductress, Miss Steele."

I press one kiss very lightly on his lips before pulling back immediately.

"Only for you, my love," I respond sweetly and as innocently as I can manage. This answer makes his arms tighten around me, pulling me as close as possible.

"Damn right," he agrees in an almost purr that makes my pulse speed back up just as it was returning to normal.

Before I give in and end up doing something that makes us throw the plutonic plans out the window, I pull back with a sigh, letting my arms drop as Christian does the same.

"Remind me to never agree to a suggestion like this again," I grumble.

"You liked the idea too," he protests.

"Well, it seemed like a good one at the time!"

Christian lets out a sigh that sounds with a little _humph _as he leans his weight onto his legs and stares back out at the water.

I watch him in silence for a few moments, marveling at him as I take in his beautiful profile, clearly visible in the bright moonlight. I feel the urge to pinch myself when I cinder that this man is going to be mine as of tomorrow.

Suddenly, I see him lift his left wrist up, look down at the watch resting on it. He sighs.

"It's getting late," he say with a twinge of regretfulness at the reminder that we aren't the only ones in the world and there are other people waiting on us back inside – on me in particular. I'm sure Kate will be getting ready to leave by now.

But my plan has yet to be executed.

"I know," I respond, moving onto the purpose of me drawing his out here. It wasn't to say goodnight. Not yet. "But there's one more thing I have to do before we call it a night."

He looks over at me, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. I return his gaze and ask, "You're still planning on wearing silver tomorrow, right? To match the tie?"

His brows furrow slightly at my completely off the wall question, not knowing where the hell I'm going with this.

"Yes…" he answers uncertainly. "Why do you ask?"

I nod once and, instead of answering his question, I bring my knees up so my feet are no longer in the water and plant them back on the dock to get up. I sway just a tad as I rise and look back down at Christian who appears even more muddled now.

I gesture with my hand and say, "Come on."

He looks at me for a second longer before responding and following my example, getting to his feet gracefully. As he stands, I lean down to snatch up my shoes from where I slipped them off and left them earlier and take a couple of steps away. Again, Christian mimics my actions, and after we're both standing, I turn and start sauntering back off the dock.

"Ana?" Christian asks in questioning bewilderment as he falls in step beside me.

"Hold on," I tell him. "I told you there's one more thing I need to do."

He takes my answer, not asking anything further as we slowly step off of the dock and back onto the springy grass. I don't pause as I redirect my path just enough and set my sights on the little building next to us. The boathouse.

Christian follows behind me as I lead him back to the spot that now has one of the sweetest memories for me. It's now missing the flowers that were spread everywhere, but the hearts are still definitely present. I lean down once we get past the doorway and set my shoes down, still going barefoot. 

I glance back at Christian who is watching me with quiet interest. I gesture to the sofa.

"Sit," I say softly. He crosses the floor with his wide stride and sits down with one fluid motion, leaving his own shoes on the floor as well as he leans back, still watching me.

I smile slightly at him as I turn and go to the far side of the room to where I stashed the small box earlier. I knew Christian wouldn't be coming in here for any reason so I didn't bother exactly hiding it. The red box is proudly on display on the bottom part of the shelves which proudly display other knickknacks among Christian's rowing trophies.

I swipe it up and walk back to where Christian sits. Instead of taking my place beside him on the cushion, I opt to sit on his other side on the arm of the little couch, angling my body to face him.

"Here," I say quietly, handing him the bright leather box which he's been eyeing. He reaches up and takes it with a glance up at me.

He grasps it with one hand underneath as the other hand pulls the top open to reveal the platinum cufflinks with A&C ornately engraved into each.

I watch silently as he gazes down at the contents of the Cartier box. Nervously, I I count the seconds in my head.

One…Two…Three…

Then, "Ana," he whispers, his eyes sweeping up to meet mine. "They're gorgeous."

I smile, relieved and glad he likes them. "Consider it a wedding present. I figured they'd be perfect because they'll match your tux."

He smiles that breathtaking smile which I love so much, peeking back down at the cufflinks momentarily. "I love them," he says, looking back up at me and leaning forward toward me to give me a soft kiss. "Thank you," he breathes against my lips.

"You're very welcome," I respond happily. He smiles back down at the box for another second and says, "I'll most certainly wear them tomorrow."

He gently closes the lid back and rests the box on his thigh, looking back at me with an almost palpable happiness radiating from him. Reaching up, he brushes his fingers against my cheek before cradling my face in his wide palm.

Instinctively, I lean my face further into the sweet, warm touch of the man I love, feeling like a bubble of complete bliss is surrounding us.

"I'm going to miss you," I whisper, reaching to place my hand over his and plant a kiss in the middle of his palm. He frowns at my words.

"Don't remind me," he sighs unhappily. "I still don't see why we have to be separated."

I shrug lightly. "It's traditional, I suppose."

He smirks at me. "And since have we been defined as traditional?" I crack a smile.

"Fair point well made, Mr. Grey," I concede, weaving my fingers through the hand I still hold in mine.

"So, why should we start now?" he tries vainly to rationalize. "Just stay here with me. Or better yet, we'll get our own room at the Olympic." Despite his words, his voice holds no hope that I'll actually go along. Our plans have been made and he knows it.

"Well, first of all," I counter. "We both know what will happen if we sleep in the same room together. Then, that would be two plans thrown out the window."

He shrugs with an amused smile on his gorgeous face. "The way I see it, all the more reason to do it."

I make a 'tisk' noise and shake my head with amusement at him. "It's just one night," I remind him.

He sighs again, resigned, and for just an instant, I see something flash in his eyes. I can't identify the exact emotion, though it looks a lot like worry. The sight reminds me of an earlier worry I thought of this week.

"Hey," I say, using my other to touch his cheek. "Are you going to be okay tonight? Sleeping by yourself?"

He looks at me with understanding, not needing an explanation that I'm referring to his nightmares. I've been worrying about how he would handle sleeping without me.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me," he says sincerely. I give him a scrutinizing look.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I _will _stay if you need me to. I don't want you having nightmares."

"I'll miss you like crazy, but I'll be okay," he reassures me with a little smile. I sigh, still concerned before I glance at the clock mounted on the wall.  
"It's late," I note with regret. "We should head back." He nods slowly with reluctance as well.

Suddenly, an idea occurs to me. "Hey," I say. "Come on. Got an idea." I still have his hand in mine, so I use it to pull him up from the couch. We both grab our shoes and make our way back out of the boathouse. We stay silent as we walk hand in hand back up to house, taking our time, strolling barefoot across the manicured lawn.

Finally, we reach the sliding glass door I came out of earlier, and both slide back through. Everyone has pretty much cleared out, and no one is in the room as we ghost our way through the house, bypassing the living room where it seems everyone left is sitting. So, without being noticed at all, we reach the stairs, and I lead the way as we both ascend to the second floor before we go to the second staircase and end up at the third floor and at the door of Christian's old room.

I open the door, walking through with Christian right behind me. Immediately, I spot his overnight bag sitting on the desk and the thick, white garment bag which holds his tux draped over the chair.

I gingerly set my heels down by the door before turning to shut the door. Releasing Christian's hand, I walk with purpose over to where the overnight bag rests, unzipping it with one motion. It doesn't take much to find his cotton t-shirt and sleep pants which I snatch out and turn back to Christian who is now sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me.

I toss the pile at him, and say, "Get changed," just before I walk over to the opposite side of the bed.

He grabs the clothes and responds with amusement, "Yes, ma'am." I bite my lip to hide my smile as I turn my attention to moving the pillows and turning down the covers. With that done, I plop onto the mattress to watch the delicious show of Christian disrobing. I stare, enamored, at the play of muscle movement under the creamy skin of his back as he slips off his clothes. When he's just in his sweats, he saunters back over to the chair with his trousers and dress shirt and leaves them there before turning back to me and pulling on the t-shirt with one swift move.

With him changed, I stand back up and point to the bed. "Lay down," I say quietly, going over to the desk to turn on the small lamp there, then moving back to the door where I switch off the bright main light, leaving the room much dimmer now.

I turn back to the bed where Christian's already lounging idly, looking most comfortable with his hands behind his head. I walk back around the bed and slide in beside him. But instead of cuddling up next to him like I usually do, I hold my arms out to him.

"Come here," I say. He stares at me for a beat before moving, sliding further down and scooting over to snuggle up to me. His copper head rests against my shoulder and his nose nuzzles into my neck.

"I thought you weren't staying," he says against my skin, hugging me closer.

"I'm not," I say. "But I figured there was nothing wrong with you falling asleep with me still here. I'll sneak out after you're unconscious."

He pulls back just enough to peer up at me. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to," I counter, pulling him back to me and resting the side of my cheek on his head and pulling my fingers through his hair. I both feel and hear him release a sigh of contentment.

We stay like that for an immeasurable amount of time, just holding each other with only small murmurs passing between us. I listen as Christian's breathing slows and lethargy takes over.

"Can't wait to marry you, Ana," he slurs sleepily from the crook of my neck just before he slips under. His breathing turns deep and even.

"Nor I you, Christian," I whisper, though he's asleep. I run my finger very lightly through his hair. "Nor I you."

**Okay guys! that was it! Again, i am SOO sorry it took forever! i hope u enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! And there's more coming! i have other ideas! so follow me and i'll try to get on those as well! :) Love u all!**


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